


time has a way of throwing it all in your face

by tazernkaner



Series: I'll make sure to keep my distance [5]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Lack of Communication, M/M, seriously I don't think it's possible for two people to be worse at communicating, trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-15 13:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazernkaner/pseuds/tazernkaner
Summary: Jonny played for Chicago, Patrick played for Buffalo - they'd been hooking up for years, and while not everyone understood what they had, it worked for them. Then Patrick gets traded to Chicago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would recommend reading the first three parts of this series before reading this part. It'll help you understand why these boys are so ridiculous. 
> 
> The hockey schedule in this is pretty accurate - it just kind of fit perfectly with my plan. Patrick scoring the winning goal against Buffalo, assisted by Jonny, just happened to be the icing on the cake. Once I realized that I had to add it in.

 

_November 2016_

The news hits Jonny out of the blue.

 

It's not something he ever thought possible. Patrick Kane. A Blackhawk.

 

He’s in the middle of a workout, just finishing up on the treadmill, when he gets a text from Sharpy. It doesn't say anything aside from the link he’s copy and pasted.

 

Jonny just frowns down at his phone in confusion, wondering what the fuck Sharpy is up to now.

 

He freezes instantly, once the web page loads and he’s faced with an article explaining that Patrick Kane of the Buffalo Sabres had been traded to the Chicago Blackhawks.

 

It's enough to rock the hockey world - players like Patrick, with that pure skill and dedication, don't get traded often. He's the type of player you build your franchise around. What could the Sabres possibly be thinking?

 

It's the question everyone is asking. The general consensus is that Chicago won the trade, Jonny realizes as he continues to read the article. They're giving up a lot of young talent, in addition to a first round pick, but those are all hypotheticals. Patrick is one of the best in the game _right now_.

 

Jonny reads the comments on the article, trying to see this from a hockey standpoint. Because if he considers this from any other angle - if he thinks about what this means _outside_ of hockey, he thinks he may hyperventilate or something.

 

Patrick. A Blackhawk. It's a little surreal, in all honesty. It's not like he's never pictured it before - he and Patrick on the same team. Getting to spend more than just a couple days together each year. Late at night, when his bed feels to big and lonely, he sometimes thinks of it in the confines of his own head. It's not something he’d ever tell anyone, of course. But he's thought about it.

 

The problem is - in his head, it's easy. It's him and Patrick, exactly as they are now. Nothing complicated. But this is real life - things between them have always remained uncomplicated _because_ they see so little of each other. There's no opportunity for things to go wrong.

 

Things had even been a little off at the World Cup - and that was barely two weeks.

 

Jonny just... He doesn't know what this trade means _for them_. They're not together, it's not a relationship. It's never been possible.

 

But now. Jonny guesses it kind of is. Patrick. 82 games a year, instead of just two. He's wondered how things may have gone differently, if their circumstances were different. Would they have fallen in love, if given the chance to?

 

It's frustrating and ridiculous, but even after eight years, Jonny doesn't know what he feels for Patrick. Never knew if he wanted Patrick because he was _Patrick_ or because he was the only one Jonny trusted and felt comfortable with. Maybe his deep rooted attraction and yearning for Patrick was just a yearning for _anyone_ , for closeness to someone.

 

Before he met Patrick, he didn't think he’d be able to have that closeness with anyone. Not until he retired, at least.

 

And, it isn't like he knows what Patrick wants either - it's not something they've ever talked about. What's the point, when the possibility of them ever being together for real was practically impossible?

 

It feels like a lot of pressure. It weighs heavy on Jonny’s chest as he just stands there, the treadmill still clunking along by his side. He can't seem to tear his eyes away from the phone, from the bold letters that essentially change everything he's ever known.

 

He's pulled out of his stupor by another text from Sharpy. _What does this mean for you guys?_ it reads. Jonny doesn't know how he feels about Sharpy being serious about the situation. It makes it feel even heavier, somehow, knowing that he isn't teasing Jonny over it. That even he gets how huge this is.

 

He's saved from having to think of a reply, because just as he's starting to type, he gets another text. This time though it's from Patrick.

 

Jonny sucks in a breath as his eyes scan over the words. It's nothing crazy - just a simple _Hey. Flying into Chicago tomorrow. Think you can pick me up?_

 

It makes it realer than anything else. Jonny’s just kind of left there, stunned between the terror of the unknown and the excitement of seeing Patrick tomorrow when he didn't think he would get to for another two and a half months.

 

***

 

A list of things Jonny _should_ have said when Patrick gets into his car: “Hey, how are you?” or “I missed you”, “Happy belated birthday”, “Welcome to the team”, or even “Do you need me to show you around Chicago?”

 

What Jonny actually says is: “You didn't ask to be traded here, did you?”

 

He says it just as Patrick is settling into the seat, reaching for his seatbelt. He freezes instantly at Jonny’s words.

 

He doesn't mean for it to come out. It wasn't something he was _ever_ planning on asking Patrick, at least not completely outright like that. Maybe like, subtly hint at it or something.

 

Patrick’s face shifts through various emotions. First he looks completely shocked, like Jonny had maybe punched him or something. Then it switches to confusion, his brows knitting together like he's actually considering what Jonny just asked him. And then it settles on anger, eyes narrowed into a glare. His outrage is completely justified of course and he spits out a “no you fucking moron,” between bared teeth.

 

Jonny opens his mouth to say something, but Patrick is steam rolling forward before he gets the chance.

 

“You're serious? You think I _asked_ to leave my team? My hometown? My _family?_ You're fucking kidding right?” His eyes are blazing with something as they search Jonny.

 

Jonny runs a hand over his face, unsure what to say. He didn't - objectively he didn't think Patrick would ever actually ask to be traded. He knows him well enough to know he loves being close to his family, and of course it's his team. Jonny had just started to freak out last night, lying in bed and trying to comprehend why the Sabres would possibly trade Patrick. It didn't make sense, unless he considered that maybe... Patrick had asked for it. And then he couldn't stop thinking about it. About what it would mean for Patrick requesting a trade to be near Jonny. He completely freaked out. So the words just kind of slipped out.

 

“I'm sorry,” Jonny sighs and it sounds a bit exasperated even to his own ears. “I just had to ask.”

 

Patrick huffs and turns in his seat to glare out the window. “Well,” he snaps. “Now you've got your answer, you happy?”

 

“No,” he sighs desperately, voice cracking a little. He didn't want to fight with Patrick at all - let alone the moment they first saw each other after two months apart. “I'm sorry,” he says again.

 

Patrick’s head turns slightly so he's looking at Jonny again, expression unreadable. “Just. Bring me to my hotel, please?” He mumbles, fingers fiddling with his seat belt. He looks exhausted, eyes sunken and dark. Jonny tries to imagine how he would feel, leaving Chicago. He can't imagine Patrick has slept much lately.

 

“Hey, I'm sorry,” he tries again, swallowing hard. He knows it was a dick move. He's just not sure how to fix it now.

 

Patrick nods tersely, eyes not really meeting Jonny’s. “It's... Can you just bring me to my hotel, Jonny? _Please_.” His voice cracks on the last word and his expression is so helpless that all Jonny can do is nod in return and turn the key in the ignition.

 

They don't say anything for the rest of the drive, the only sound coming from the radio. Patrick spends most of the drive looking out the window, presumably taking in the Chicago skyline. He's seen it before, of course. Jonny wonders if it's different though, once it becomes your new home.

 

“Do you want me to help you with your bags?” Jonny asks once he’s cut the engine in front of the hotel Patrick is staying at.

 

“It's fine,” Patrick mumbles, undoing his seatbelt and opening the door. “Thanks. I’ll see you at practice, then?” He asks before getting out.

 

Jonny doesn't get the chance to say anything before the door is shut and suddenly Patrick is around the back, knocking on the trunk for Jonny to open it.

 

And then Patrick’s gone, disappearing into the hotel lobby and leaving Jonny with a sick wave washing over him.

 

Obviously Patrick being in Chicago was turning out _brilliant_ for them.

 

Fuck.

 

***

 

Jonny thinks about calling Patrick all day. He was a complete and total asshole, he gets that. But he also doesn't know what to say to make it better. He considers his reaction, if the roles were reversed. If Jonny had to give up everything and then Patrick, without even saying a fucking _hello_ , accused him of giving that all up to be with him. Jonny would still be seeing red.

 

So he doesn't text Patrick. For awhile, he debates texting Sharpy about it. He's the only person who really knows the extent of it and Jonny’s got so much nervous energy that he can't sit still, wants to do _something_ . He's never felt comfortable doing nothing when there's a problem to be solved. But that would mean telling Sharpy what he said and god, the thought of admitting that he's that much of a failure at having a normal adult relationship stops him. He doesn't like talking about feelings, doesn't want to admit to Sharpy how much he wants - maybe _needs_ Patrick.

 

The thought of Patrick being in Chicago, minutes away, and Jonny being unable to see him because of one stupid question, is so frustrating that Jonny wants to scream. It pretty much takes everything he has in him to not jump in his car and drive to where Patrick is.

 

He’s a little sick, too, with the desperation. He knows it's not healthy how much he needs Patrick. It was different when he was twenty years old. Patrick was his _first_. But it's been eight years and Jonny needs to get a handle on this fucking shit. The whole point of not dating was to not complicate hockey and now that risk was greater than ever.

 

Jonny doesn't get much sleep that night. He's too busy tossing and turning. When he finally does doze off, he dreams about Patrick and his first all star game together. But instead of Patrick coming out to him, he laughs in Jonny’s face and tells everyone that Jonny is gay. He wakes with a jerk, eyes popping open and his heartbeat slowing with the realization that it was only a dream, the sounds of laughter dying out around him as he focuses on the empty room he's in.

 

Looking at the clock, he sees that it's 6:30 am and he knows there's no way he's getting back to sleep. He lays there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, feeling bad for himself. His first practice with Patrick is in a couple hours - his first since he were thirteen with a dumb crush.

 

He gets up and makes himself some breakfast then fucks around on his computer for a while. He wonders how long it's going to take, now that Patrick is here, for him to stop feeling nervous before he sees him.

 

Around 8 o'clock he gives up fighting it and sends Patrick a text, asking if he wants a ride to practice. The reply comes quickly, but it says that Patrick is already there. He went in early to meet with the coaching staff.

 

Jonny’s counting it as a win. At least Patrick responded. That's got to be a good sign right?

 

***

 

Patrick’s not in the locker room when Jonny arrives for practice though the rest of the team pretty much is.

 

Jonny busies himself with getting ready, tactfully avoiding meeting Sharpy’s gaze and straining to hear the conversations going on about them. As to be expected, most of them are about Patrick. Hartman and Schmaltz are to his left, hammering on about Patrick’s hat trick he got a couple of weeks ago. Jonny knows that Patrick has always been Schmaltz’ favorite player since he were a kid (and _god_ , that makes Jonny feel old.) Earlier in the season, Sharpy was being a dick (as per usual) and said to Schmaltz with a evil smirk “maybe you should ask Jonny to introduce you to Kane when we play them! They go way back to their rookie year!”

 

Schmaltz, who had never gotten to take the ice against Patrick before - only just having begun his NHL career - looked at Jonny with wide astonished eyes. “Are you _friends_?” He had asked, looking so ridiculously young in that moment.

 

Jonny had put on a tight smile, shooting Sharpy a look that he hoped said _I'm going to kill you later_ and said “Nah, I wouldn't call us friends” which wasn’t _actually_ a lie. “Just know each other from playing against each other over the years.”

 

Schmaltz had happily accepted the answer, nothing ever came of it. Sharpy was just being a dick.

 

But now, Jonny didn't know how he was supposed to act. It wasn't like he could act like he barely knew Patrick, aside from the way you know someone you've been playing for years. When other guys enter the locker room, Jonny’s got a whole captainly routine that he does, welcoming them and trying to make them feel comfortable.

 

With Patrick though, he doesn't know how to do that without being outwardly awkward and feeling like a moron. It's _Patrick._ Jonny knows how it feels to kiss him, to be _inside_ him, to wake up next to him. Shaking Patrick’s hand and saying “welcome to the team” with a perfunctory smile doesn't seem right.

 

And then there's the fact that Sharpy’s made jokes in the past about Jonny’s _girl_ in Buffalo. He's sure some of his teammates have noticed that he never goes out with them in Buffalo. They've _had_ too, right? What if someone they make a connection to that and the comfortable way Jonny and Patrick are with each other? Jonny isn't ready for the entire team to know. Sure, Sharpy and Seabs and Duncs know. But he's been playing with them forever and he knows no matter what happens, they would never do anything to out him.

 

The other guys, Jonny can't be sure. They're his team and he loves them all, but he doesn't _know_ them like that. Who's to say one of them wouldn't be traded away and tell someone? Even just a slip up. Jonny’s not stupid enough to believe that the news of two players together - especially high profile like themselves - wouldn't spread around the NHL like a wildfire.

 

So basically, he's freaking out about how to act when Patrick walks into the locker room.

 

As it turns out, he doesn't really have to worry because Patrick is still mad at him, it seems. He bypasses him without so much as a glance and heads straight to his new stall. Which for _fuck sakes_ is right next to Sharpy, because Jonny’s got no fucking luck.

 

Everyone's eyes are on him, a lot of the conversations seem to die out quickly. Patrick looks around, one eyebrow raised but a friendly smile to go with it.

 

Sharpy is the first one to say anything. “Hey Kane, welcome to the team. Nice to see you again.”

 

Patrick smiles back at him. “Yeah, you too man. Happy to be here. You guys got a great team.”

 

Everyone starts saying hello and stuff then, introducing themselves. Jonny knows that eventually he's going to have to say _something_ , he's the captain. But he just keeps lacing his skates, letting the excited rookies gush over Patrick’s play for a bit.

 

“Alright,” Jonny eventually barks out. “Come on, get on the ice.” He looks over at Patrick, who is finally looking back at him. “Welcome to the team, Kane.”

 

Patrick smirks a little bit then quickly sucks it inward, nodding. “Thanks, Toews,” he responds.

 

Jonny does a quick glance around and no one seems to be looking at them funny or suspicious so he thinks they're okay. Everyone is just filing out of the locker room, heading to take the ice. Patrick ends up being last, still putting on his gear. Jonny waits for him and when Patrick tries to pass, he reaches out and grabs his elbow gently to stop him.

 

Patrick looks up with a questioning expression, eyes searching Jonny like he's trying to figure him out. He's wearing the Hawks practice jersey - it looks good on him. Jonny’s stomach swoops unfairly at the sight.

 

Jonny jerks his head in the other direction. “Can we talk?” He asks gently, feeling hopeful.

 

Patrick responds with a quick nod and follows him down the hallway until they reach a corner where they can speak alone.

 

“Sorry about - I don't really know how we’re supposed to act, you know. How to explain...” Jonny trails off, shrugging. His only real hope is that Patrick feels that same weird pressure.

 

“It's fine,” Patrick responds curtly.

 

Jonny sighs. “And I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday - that was. Not cool.”

 

Patrick looks at Jonny, his jaw working like he's thinking of saying something back. Eventually he just shrugs. “It's okay, really. Honestly, let's just forget it. I know this situation is confusing. Don't worry about it.”

 

Jonny doesn't feel like he's been completely forgiven but he's going to need to accept it for what it is, right now. They're supposed to be out on the ice.

 

“Let's practice then, see how you look as a Hawk,” Jonny says, trying his best to be causal. He needs to figure out how to treat Patrick like a teammate.

 

Patrick rolls his eyes but falls into step with Jonny anyway.

 

When they get on the ice, everyone else is skating around shooting the puck. Sharpy looks up when he sees them getting on together and he smirks mischievously.  Jonny’s jaw automatically clenches because he _knows_ Sharpy is going to make this whole situation harder than it needs to be.

 

“He's never going to get over that is he?” Patrick comments under his breath.

 

“Probably not, no,” Jonny snorts, thinking back to Sochi when Sharpy had busted in on them. Patrick, sprawled naked on Jonny’s bed. Sharpy had looked absolutely horrified. But he was still mocking Jonny for it eight years later. It was all in fun - mostly. And it was only the second person Jonny came out too (even if it was forced) so at least Sharpy had been accepting.

 

***

 

“Hey, Pat, want to get lunch?” Jonny asks, standing over Patrick’s stall as he unlaces his skates. He doesn't say it overly loud, not interested in everyone in the room hearing. But he's not exactly hiding the fact that he's asking either. He thought about it, during practice. He and Patrick had joked easily, and even gotten into a little competition on the ice. There's no way they're going to be able to act like they're not friends - Jonny is just way too comfortable with him. It feels natural to look up and smile at Patrick.

 

So he's going about it the other root. He's going to acknowledge their friendship and hope that the guys don't actually care enough to keep tabs on his life or study their interactions too in depth. Honestly, it's very unlikely _anyone_ would jump to the conclusion that he and Patrick have been sleeping together for 8 years. They're more likely to just assume they're friends.

 

All this over thinking is giving him a headache. He's usually not like this - expect when it involves Patrick.

 

Patrick nods, smiling a little. “Sure. You can show me what Chicago has to offer.”

 

“Aside from the best team in the league,” Sharpy comments from their side. “I’ll join too if that's alright? Always wanted to get to know you better,” he directs at Patrick.

 

Patrick looks at Jonny and then back at Sharpy. “Sure, sounds cool.”  

 

So all his plans to apologize and make things right with Patrick were out the window then. What was Sharpy’s problem? Jonny hadn’t seen Patrick in months. He obviously didn't want Sharpy around getting in the way.

 

But there was no way to object without being suspicious so he smiles tightly before heading off to the showers.

 

“Ready, Jonny?” Sharpy calls from the other side of the locker room, just as he’s swinging a Hawks hat on his head and adjusting the brim.

 

Patrick, next to him, seems to be ready as well. He's wearing a black hoodie with a Hawks logo on the front. It looks a little too big, the sleeves are rolled up around his elbows. His hair is still a little wet, thinner than it was when they first met. Jonny had always loved running his finger through Patrick’s curls, scratching his head lightly as they fell asleep together. He looks good and Jonny _wants_. Fucking Sharpy, getting in the way.

 

“Yeah, I’m ready, hang on.”

 

Seabs, to his right, looks over at him with a dumbfounded expression. “You're seriously going to lunch with Sharpy and Kane?” He says low.

 

Jonny just grits his teeth in response.

 

As they're walking out, Jonny gives Sharpy a shove. Patrick is a few steps ahead, so he hisses under his breath “What the fuck?”

 

“Relax, Tazer,” Sharpy says easily. “I'm not going to do anything. Just genuinely want to get to know him.” Jonny can't read anything but sincerity in Sharpy’s expression, so he just huffs and keeps walking. “We’ll take my car,” he says louder, so Patrick can hear too.

 

Of course, to Jonny’s dismay, Patrick and Sharpy get along _great._ Sharpy gives him shotgun, so Jonny’s forced to sit in the back while the two of them chat easily.

 

It's even worse during lunch when Sharpy starts talking about his girls and Patrick, who apparently loves kids, asks all kinds of questions about them. Sharpy ends up showing him pictures for a solid ten minutes.

 

Jonny raises an eyebrow at Patrick at that. He had no idea he had any interest in kids. It's kind of surprising.

 

“Fuck you,” Patrick responds easily when Jonny chirps him on it. “I've got tons of kid cousins around at home.”

 

“You want kids one day?” Sharpy asks him. Jonny doesn't know if he's genuinely curious or just messing with Jonny.

 

“I don't know,” Patrick answers back, picking up his knife and dragging it around his plate, playing with the remaining rice.

 

Jonny doesn't meet his eye. He doesn't like to think of it - the future where Patrick finds someone to settle down with.

 

The conversation switches to hockey easily, talking about what teams are looking at a good playoff run. The entire thing goes relatively well. Sharpy doesn't say anything, other than the kid thing, to get Jonny going.

 

They're in the car, on the way back to pick up Jonny’s car after having dropped Patrick off at the hotel, when Jonny says “thanks” during a pause in conversation. “For not being a dick,” he clarifies when Sharpy gives him a questioning look.

 

Sharpy rolls his eyes then. “You're welcome,” he says dryly. “I told you. I wasn't trying to mess with you. It's just interesting, to see you

guys together after years of wondering.”

 

“Wondering what?” Jonny asks because he really doesn't know what Sharpy means by that.

 

“Just. What you guys are like together. All I know is that you sneak off to see him anytime he's in town. You've never given me more than that.” Sharpy’s purposefully not looking at him. “C’mon, Toe-z, you're like my little brother. Just nice to see you happy.”

 

Jonny doesn't know how to respond to that, so he gives a noncommittal hum. It’s obvious he thinks there's way more to their relationship. But he doesn't have the energy to try and explain it so he lets it go.

 

“I'm not your little brother,” is all he says.

 

***

 

Patrick texts him later that night, much to Jonny’s relief. It wasn't like he was pacing around wondering if he should text him or not. But he also wasn't  _not_ doing that.

 

 _Thinking about the power play_ is all it says. Jonny, who is always eager to talk about the power play and also always eager to talk to Patrick, skips texting back and instead just decides to call.

 

Patrick answers on the first ring and Jonny’s almost certain he can hear the smile in his “hello.”

 

“What's up?” Jonny asks. He’s got the phone lodged between his shoulder and his ear, pushing a spatula around a pan of frying vegetables.

 

“You called me,” Patrick replies, sounding amused.

 

“You said you wanted to talk about the power play,” Jonny counters as he's reaching up to grab a spice from the rack, but because of the angle, his phone slips through his shoulder and clatters to the floor. “Fuck,” he mutters as he bends down to pick it up. “Sorry, dropped my phone,” he explains.

 

“You busy? We don't have to talk.”

 

“I'm never too busy to talk about the power play,” Jonny assures him. “Just cooking some supper. Hey... actually, I probably made way too much. Do you want to come over? Can't imagine the hotel food is all that great.”

 

There's a pause before Patrick responds - just long enough that Jonny’s sure he's trying to come up with an excuse. However, all he says is “you’ll need to come pick me up.”

 

Less than twenty minutes later he’s pulled up in front of Patrick’s hotel.

 

Patrick doesn't keep him waiting long. He opens the car door with a smile on his face. He's wearing an honest to god winter jacket - Jonny’s only wearing a light pull over.

 

“It's not that cold,” Jonny objects automatically, unable to stop himself. He waits for Patrick to get settled into his seat before starting to pull away from the curb.

 

Patrick just snorts in response. “You're aggressively Canadian, we get it.”

 

Jonny looks at him from the side of his eye but doesn't bother to acknowledge it with a thought.

 

The food is cold by the time they get back, so Jonny sticks it in the microwave while Patrick looks around his living room.

 

“Feels like a lifetime ago, last time I was here,” Patrick comments while looking at a new painting that’s hanging on the wall.

 

“Last... December, wasn't it? So nearly a year.” Jonny thinks back to that visit - he’d had a Christmas tree up, he remembers. Only because his mother had insisted on it. Patrick had mocked his decorating job and then Jonny had bent him over the fireplace to shut him up. He wonders if Patrick is thinking about the same thing.

 

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees while lowering himself onto the couch. “Last December. You guys won in a shootout. I remember because you missed your shot and I got mine right after.” Patrick’s looking pretty smug about it.

 

“Yeah, but who _won_ ,” Jonny counters. He lays the two plates on the table.

 

“Who got first star?”

 

Jonny rolls his eyes and heads back towards the kitchen to grab them a drink. “Hockey is a _team sport_ , Patrick,” he jokingly chastises over his shoulder.

 

“Can't believe you're my captain now,” Patrick grumbles just as Jonny hands him a beer. Patrick raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment on the fact that it's his favorite kind, for which Jonny is thankful.

 

“So,” says Jonny, lowering himself down on to the couch next to Patrick. “You wanted to talk about the power play?”

 

The reaction is automatic, the way Patrick sits up straighter, eyes shining with excitement. “I've got some ideas,” he nods.

 

They’d run through the power play in practice earlier, Jonny and Patrick being put together. It was the first time they’d ever been on the same line - and fuck, it was better than Jonny could imagine. Playing with Patrick was different than anything he’d ever experienced before. And it wasn't simply his skill - Jonny had played with the best players in the world on Team Canada. It was the _connection_ they had, it was how easily Jonny was able to find Patrick on the ice. He couldn't wait for their game, to see what they were capable of together.

 

From the way Patrick was excitedly firing off his ideas - the feeling was clearly mutual.

 

***

 

So they're not sleeping together - it's a thing.

 

Jonny had tried to convince himself it _wasn’t_ a thing, but it’s definitely a thing.

 

Patrick’s been in Chicago for almost two weeks now and they haven't so much as touched (when not playing hockey, at least. Their power play has been unreal these past few games. Jonny constantly finds himself slamming into Patrick against the board, celebrating another goal. They're kind of on fire.)

 

It's probably the longest Jonny has gone seeing Patrick without having sex with him. Actually, no, it's _absolutely_ the longest. Usually, they're hardly alone for two minutes before their mouths are on each other. Now it's been almost _two weeks_ and nothing. And the problem isn't that they're not spending time together - in fact, they're pretty much together all the damn time. Going to lunch. Playing video games at Jonny’s. Training together. Celebrating wins at the bar.

 

So Jonny isn't sure what the problem is. Except he's not having sex with Patrick and he's fucking cranky about it. The longer it goes, the harder it is to breach the distance and kiss Patrick. If Patrick wanted to, they would already be doing it, _right?_

 

“What's your problem?” Duncs asks, nudging Jonny to slide over into the booth. He sets a beer down in front of him.

 

“Nothing,” Jonny grumbles back, reaching for the beer. He gives a cheers motion before chugging half of it, his scowl still present around the neck of the bottle.

 

Duncs is looking far too amused. “Mhm,” he hums before taking a swig of his own beer. “Be happy, Jonny,” he sing-songs. “We’re winning. Things are good.”

 

“Things are great,” Jonny agrees half heartedly, picking at the label on his bottle. The addition of Patrick to their team had really seemed to light a fire under everyone's ass. Things were clicking, they were dominating. But, at this rate, Jonny is going to have _less_ sex than he did when he only saw Patrick a couple things a year.

 

Duncs just laughs again and Jonny doesn't even bother to try and figure out what he's got going on in his head.

 

Instead, he turns to look at the bar, where he knows Patrick is chatting to Shmaltz. Schmaltz is nodding eagerly to whatever Patrick is saying, eyes wide and smile spread wide, mesmerized by him. He looks like a fangirl or something. It's sickening.

 

Patrick is grinning back up at him. Jonny grits his teeth in annoyance. There's no _reason_ to be annoyed but Jonny is drunk and doesn't care. He's jealous, alright. He's not usually the type to get jealous but - fuck. He wants Patrick’s attention on _him_.

 

“Stop glaring at Schmaltzy,” Duncs comments lowly, knocking their knees together.

 

Jonny opens his mouth to respond, deny it or something but he clamps it shut quickly and looks back at the table. “Think I'm going to call it a night,” he finally manages.

 

The expression on Duncs’ face is hard to read but Jonny doesn't really want to know anyway. So he slides out of the booth and heads to the bathroom before he calls a cab.

 

He's waiting outside the bar when he hears “Hey, Jonny?” in the familiar soft pitch. He turns to see Patrick coming up behind him, a soft smile on his lips. It's a different smile than he was giving Schmaltzy or anyone else in there. Jonny wants to claim it for his own, to be the only person Patrick ever looks at that way.

 

“Hey,” Jonny replies, equally as soft when Patrick comes up next to him. He looks good - a plaid button up left unbuttoned over a plain white t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A pair of jeans that left Jonny staring at his ass for far too much of the night. And a hat spun around backward, one of Jonny’s favorite of Patrick’s looks. He _wants._

 

“Heading out?” Patrick asks. He takes a step closer, his arm brushing against Jonny’s. The contact of their skin makes a shiver run down Jonny’s spine.

 

“Yeah,” Jonny replies roughly, it's all he can manage to breathe out.

 

Patrick nods, tongue darting out to skim over his lower lip. Jonny tracks the movement, his own teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

 

“Glad I caught you before you left,” Patrick murmurs back, eyes meeting Jonny’s gaze. Jonny isn't sure if he imagines it or not, but it feels like Patrick leans in closer to him. He definitely tilts his head towards him. Jonny’s breath is coming out shallow at this point, he shifts his body so he's positioned closer to Patrick.

 

It’s stupid because they're standing outside a bar -  one where all their teammates are in, not to mention a bunch of sports fans. But Jonny is sure he's about five seconds away from kissing Patrick, too drunk to care.

 

A loud crash comes from inside the bar and they both jump in response. Patrick’s neck whips around to look at the door then he turns back to Jonny with wide panicked eyes. He takes a little step back, jamming his hands into his pocket.

 

“So anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “Wanted to catch you before you left so I could ask if you'd come looking at apartments with me tomorrow.”

 

Jonny lets out a long breath. He was sure they were going to kiss - or at least leave together. But Patrick is backing away from him like it isn't what he wants and Jonny’s stomach is sinking.

 

“Okay,” he agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah okay, I can come. No problem.”

 

Patrick nods, still looking at him. He can't read his expression and it's frustrating, not knowing what Patrick wants.

 

“Okay, cool,” Patrick says eventually. “Well. I'm going to head back in. See you tomorrow then?”

 

Jonny looks back at the street ahead of him, lips pursed. “Yep.”

 

And then Patrick is gone, disappearing back into the bar and leaving Jonny horny and drunk and frustrated and _alone_.

 

***

 

“Thanks for picking me up,” Patrick is saying as soon as he slides into the passenger seat of Jonny’s car. He's got a bright smile on his face, no sense of awkwardness over last night’s events.

 

Jonny scowls in return, not answering. Patrick doesn't seem to notice though, just starts chattering on about the game tomorrow. They're flying out to Toronto later tonight, then heading straight to Detroit from there. Eventually, though, Patrick seems to get fed up with Jonny’s tight-lipped, one-word replies because he sighs heavily and flops back into his seat, facing forward instead of facing Jonny. His arms cross over his chest and the smile is instantly replaced by a frown.

 

Jonny rolls his eyes upwards and sighs. He hates apologizing but. He hates Patrick being mad at him more, so. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just a bit hungover.”

 

Patrick looks like he doesn't quite believe him, but he must not be in the mood to bicker either because he lets it go. “Do you know where we’re going?” He asks, referring to the address he had given him.

 

“Yeah,” Jonny nods as he switches lanes. “Laddy actually used to live in the same building. It's uh, not very far from mine actually.”

 

The apartment turns out to be pretty much exactly the same layout as the one Laddy lived in. Nice big master bedroom, guest room with its own bathroom, deck overlooking the Chicago skyline. It's nice - seems like an easy choice to Jonny but Patrick is going around the place, sizing up every room, eyebrows knit together as he opens drawers and looks around in the closets.

 

“What are you trying to find?” Jonny finally snaps, annoyed.

 

Patrick turns to look at him over his shoulder, a shit eating grin on his face as he closes the kitchen drawer. “I'm going to be living here a long time, just want to make sure it's perfect.”

 

Jonny’s eyes narrow. “Are the drawers up to your standards, then?”

 

Patrick makes a contemplating face but it's easy to see he's fighting back laughter. “Actually,” he drawls, tapping his index finger on his chin. “They're a bit small. I'm worried my spatula will get stuck.”

 

Jonny barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head incredulously. “You're a god damn freak,” he snorts.

 

Patrick grins back, leaving the kitchen to come join Jonny. They both look out the window for a moment. “Nah, I think it's good. Nice location. Not to far from the rink.”

 

 _Not too far from me_ , Jonny thinks but doesn't say. He wonders if Patrick is thinking the same thing.

 

“Just wish there were a hot tub.”

 

“Your apartment in Buffalo doesn't have a hot tub,” Jonny objects.  

 

“No, but the house I was going to put an offer in on does,” Patrick mumbles, suddenly very focused on the view.

 

“The - wait, what? You were buying a house in Buffalo?” He hasn't really thought about it that much, how much this whole thing must suck for Patrick. He had a whole life in Buffalo, family and friends. Buying a place in Chicago was probably the last thing he wanted to be doing.

 

“It was really nice,” Patrick lets out an appreciative whistle. “You should have seen it. 5 bedrooms, right on Lake Erie. That's what I was most excited for. The lake this summer.”

 

“I have a lake,” Jonny finds himself saying without thinking. “In Winnipeg. It's nice. You could always, come up for a bit in the offseason, or whatever..” Jonny trails off dumbly. It's his turn to not meet Patrick’s eyes now, his turn to be fascinated by the view he's seen every morning for years.

 

“Yeah?” Patrick questions, sounding hesitant.

 

“I mean. If you wanted.”

 

“Cool, yeah,” Patrick answers casually but Jonny can hear the smile he's trying to hide. “That would be cool.”

 

“Cool,” Jonny echoes, trying also to feign casual. They're such idiots. They've fucked enough times that it shouldn't be such a big deal to talk about spending some time together in the summer. Jonny wonders if it would have been this easy in the past, if he could have just called Patrick and said “come visit me” and have avoided summers of missing him.

 

“Alright, well,” Patrick says, hands on his hips as he looks around then nods decisively. “I guess I’ll take it, then. Even without the hot tub.”

 

Jonny laughs lightly. “Well come on then. Let's go find the guy and fill out the paperwork before we end up missing our flight.”

 

“We’ve got seven hours!”

 

“Yes but you're a slow reader, may take you that long to read the contract.”

 

Patrick punches him in the shoulder, but he's laughing all the same. Jonny grins back, feeling the best he has in a long time.

 

***

 

“This place is like, ridiculously close to Jonny’s place,” Sharpy snorts from his end of the couch.

 

Jonny rolls his eyes, but from the corner of his eye he can see the blush creeping up Patrick’s cheeks. “It’s also ridiculously close to the UC,” Jonny reminds him.

 

Sharpy raises one eyebrow in response and Jonny fires back a challenging glare. He should never have asked these assholes to help them move Patrick’s new furniture in.

 

“Can we move it a little to the left?” Patrick asks, pointing to a spot that would clearly not be centered. Jonny says as much out loud. “It’s _my_ apartment, Jonny,” Patrick counters. “And I want the couch there.”

 

“How did you get out of lifting?” Seabs grumbles from behind Sharpy, where he and Duncs are each carrying an end of a rocker recliner.

 

“I’m directing,” Patrick says, waving a hand dismissively, just as Sharpy answers “he’s way too small to lift anything.”

 

“Hey! Fuck you!” Patrick fires back, arms crossing over his chest and brows furrowing. Jonny finds himself smiling, oddly endeared by the way Patrick has seemingly fit into his life with ease, just finding a place for himself amongst the team with little transition. Jonny never really got to experience Patrick around other people, before now. They were always hiding away somewhere, trying to get as much time alone together as possible before one of them had to leave.

 

“I’m not even that small!” Patrick continues.

 

“Dude, you’re like an angry little Chihuahua,” Duncs teases, finally putting down the recliner with a huff. Jonny can’t help it, he barks out a laugh at that, face lighting up with delight.

 

Patrick’s head swings towards him like a pendulum, outrage etched into his features. “ _Jonny_ ,” he admonishes. “You’re supposed to defend me!”

 

“Alright, enough children, the couch is staying here,” Sharpy says finally, wiping his hands together in a motion to say his work is done. “Now I believe one of you promised pizza and beer if we helped out.”

 

Jonny smirks and looks over at Patrick. “I’ll grab the beer,” he says.

 

“I’ll order the pizza,” Patrick grins back and the whole thing feels oddly domesticated if Jonny’s being honest. Like, if he squints enough he can blur reality enough to think that this is his and Patrick’s apartment. It’s not hard, they picked it out together, went shopping for the furniture together, spent all last night unpacking boxes.

 

And now, here with Jonny’s best friends, it feels almost like they’re a real couple. They play video games and eat pizza and chirp each other over stupid shit. Jonny feels great the entire time, so much so that he almost forgets what all this is.

 

But at the end of the night, when the guys are gone and it’s only he and Patrick left, he’s faced head-on with the uncertainty of it all. He can’t stop thinking about the way Patrick had jerked away last week when Jonny had been sure they were going to kiss. If Patrick didn’t want this, Jonny wasn’t going to force it on him.

 

So, shortly after everyone else left, Jonny stands and says he better head out. He has to pretend not to notice the disappointed expression on Patrick’s face because he doesn’t understand what it _means_.

 

***

 

Patrick just kind of _fits_. One day, Jonny is missing him and counting down to January and the next Patrick is there, this constant fixture in his life. And the spots where he doesn't fit - he just kind of wiggles around to make room for himself, altering Jonny’s life and his routines. Without Jonny even really noticing. It's as if  Patrick had always been there, arguing with him on the bench and chirping him and _bettering_ him.

 

They fight so much on the bench one day that Hammer looks over at them with wide, alarmed eyes. “You guys fight like an old married couple,” he scoffs.

 

Sharpy, to his left, seems to think this is hilarious. And Jonny is absolutely never going to hear the end of this, if the delighted look on his face is any indication.

 

Jonny and Patrick both shut up then, though. Patrick looks down at his skates with a small scowl, until it's time to go out for their next shift. And then, when they get back to the bench again, somehow they're back at it again, arguing about whether or not Jonny was open.

 

It just kind of _goes like that._

 

They argue a lot off the ice as well, but it doesn't feel like the type of arguing that would drive them apart.

 

They do other things, besides arguing too. Things Jonny doesn’t normally do with his teammates. Like, for example, one afternoon Patrick is lounging on Jonny’s couch and fucking around on his laptop, while Jonny is in the kitchen making lunch. They’ve got a game later that day, but the morning off, and somehow Patrick had ended up at his place.

 

“Jonny,” Patrick had called from the other room. “Have you ever visited the Chicago Art Institute?”

 

“Chicago Art Institute?” Jonny had mouthed silently to himself, brows furrowing as he looked down at the veggies he had steaming on the stove. Of _course_ he had never been to the Chicago Art Institute. When he looked up, Patrick was leaning in the doorway and looking at him expectantly.

 

“No,” he finally answers. “I haven't been there.”

 

Patrick’s answering grin, all wide and toothy, makes Jonny’s stomach flip stupidly. “Awesome,” he declares. “We should go.” And then he turns on a heal and heads back to the living room, leaving Jonny confused and frowning in his wake.

 

“ _Why_?” Jonny asks, following after him.

 

Patrick is already back to lounging on the couch, computer on his chest. “Because they’ve got a cool exhibit I want to see, that’s why?” He responds, the _duh_ obvious is his tone. He’s looking at Jonny like he’s got three heads - but. Never in a million years would he have pegged Patrick Kane as someone who wants to visit an art museum.

 

“Okay...” Jonny drawls slowly. “Yeah... We can go.”

 

They don’t end up going for another week, it just doesn’t ever seem to fit into their schedule. But on Wednesday morning, they’re both free after practice and Patrick brings it up with hopeful eyes. Jonny swallows hard, nodding along - a little scared by the fact that he would probably say yes to _anything_ when Patrick was looking at him like that.

 

“What kind of exhibit is it anyway?” Jonny asks in the car when they’re on the way to the gallery.

 

“Architecture,” Patrick answers easily, fingers firing away on his keyboard. Jonny assumes he’s talking to one of his sisters - another thing he learns about Patrick. He’s a _lot_ closer with his sisters than Jonny could have ever imagined.

 

“Really?” Jonny hums. That doesn’t actually sound too bad. “You like architecture?”

 

“My uncle is an architect,” is his answer. He finally slides his phone back into his pocket, eyes focusing on Jonny. “I always thought it was cool when he’d show me his sketches - it was like, a mix of art and math. Think it’s what I would have studied - if hockey didn’t work out.”

 

“That’s really... cool, Patrick,” Jonny finds himself saying honestly. “I don’t really know much about it, but you can explain it to me.”

 

Patrick beams at that. “Yeah,” he says softly. And then “what would you have done, if you didn’t make it to the NHL?”

 

Jonny opens his mouth to answer but then clamps it shut again, pursing his lips. “I... I don’t know, really,” he frowns. He’d thought about different things, all very briefly. And mostly just because his mom kept urging him to have a life outside of hockey. But nothing ever really stuck out to him.

 

“What were you studying at college?” Patrick presses.

 

“Uh.” Jonny ducks his head, a little embarrassed now. “I was mostly just there to play hockey. Picked some random courses. Hockey was just, always kind of it for me. I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.”

 

Patrick raises an eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing that,” he mutters, turning to look out the window.

 

He turns into the parking lot. “What?” He asks, frowning at the back of Patrick’s head. “What does that mean?”

 

Patrick turns back to him, face suddenly cheery again and simply shrugs. “Nothing.”

 

Jonny doesn’t have time to press or anything, since they’re here now. As soon as he parks Patrick jumps out of the passenger seat.

 

And that’s how Jonny ends up being photographed with Patrick at an art gallery, photos winding up on the front page of the Chicago Tribune. Sharpy sends him a text that says _What a cute little date_ with a picture of the article. Jonny ends up staring at it for far too long because _yeah_ it looks like a date. But it wasn’t, even if Jonny had spent the entire time distracted by Patrick’s lips (he had this infuriating habit of running his teeth and tongue over them when he concentrated on something), it clearly wasn’t what Patrick wanted anymore.

 

They start learning more about each other, things they wouldn’t have gotten the chance to learn without the sudden proximity. Jonny learns that Patrick loves romantic comedies - and that he almost always tears up at the sad parts. He learns that Patrick can mouth along with the words of The Notebook - which he blames on his sisters. He learns that Patrick has a ridiculous habit of doodling on things - usually the number 88. He learns that Patrick likes searching for fun things to do online - and then dragging Jonny with him to do things like axe throwing. He learns that Patrick is great at working with the younger guys on the team, at passing on his skill and advice - the rookies look up to him almost instantly. He learns that Patrick is easily sucked into prank wars with Sharpy - and that for some reason he thinks it’s a good idea to drag Jonny into them (he hasn’t been in a fucking prank war with Sharpy in _years_ , fucking Patrick.)

 

Most importantly, Jonny learns that he really enjoys Patrick’s company.

 

It's almost like - actually it _is_ like, Patrick is his best friend. Jonny’s never had such a comfortable relationship with someone.

 

So all in all things are going great... except they’re _not_ . Because while Jonny comes to find he actually really does enjoy spending time with Patrick - even if they spend at least a third of the time arguing over anything and everything - he still wants _more_ . Wants what they had _before_ mixed with what they have _now_.

 

Knowing Patrick doesn’t feel the same - it’s kind of killing him.

 

***

 

“Alright, who’s getting the next round then?” Hammer asks, slamming down the beer he’d just chugged on the table.

 

“Jonny?” Patrick suggests, grinning over at him.

 

Before Jonny gets the chance to even answer, Sharpy says “ha” loudly and wraps his arm over Jonny’s shoulder. “Jonny here? Good luck getting this guy to open up his wallet.” Then he proceeds to try to give Jonny a fucking noogie in the goddamn bar.

 

Jonny bats his arm away quickly, elbowing him in the side with a glare. “Fuck you,” he says and it’s not a slur but it’s getting there. “I get rounds.”

 

“Prove it,” Patrick says. It’s so ridiculous - Jonny shouldn’t even bother rising to their childish bait but he also can never back down from a challenge. A chance to be right. It’s a part of himself he’d come to terms with long ago.

 

“Move,” he grumbles to Sharpy, giving him a hard shove. He sees Patrick grinning at him but all he can manage is a blank glare in return.

 

The bar is fairly crowded and Jonny’s too pissy and impatient to wait long. He pushes his way to the front, hoping maybe he can use his status to push this along. They’re in Dallas, so it doesn’t really work much. Eventually, though, he’s coming back with a tray of beers for the table. Eager hands reach out to grab them before Jonny even gets the chance to lay them on the table.

 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. He bats Hartzy’s hand away as he goes for Patrick’s beer - his favorite kind. Then he realizes that Patrick isn’t even there anymore. He frowns at the empty seat and says “where’s Patrick?”

 

“Think he said something about going to find you,” Seabs says with his lips perched on the rim of his beer bottle.

 

Jonny rolls his eyes and stomps away to go find Patrick. He doesn’t see him amongst the crowd at the bar, he’s not in the bathroom either. Jonny is sick of wandering around and almost heads back to their table to see if he went back there - and that’s when he sees him. At the very end of the bar, grinning mischievously up at some guy. It’s a grin Jonny recognizes instantly - the one he uses on Jonny. Patrick is _flirting_ with some tall and tanned guy while Jonny circles around the bar looking for him like some pathetic puppy.

 

He stands there, pathetically watching the way the guy leans in closer to Patrick. And then Jonny can’t watch anymore - he’s seeing red, breaths coming out short and shallow.

 

He stomps his way back to their table, dropping into the chair and glaring at the table. A lot of the guys have cleared out - younger ones to the dance floor, older guys starting to organize cabs back to the hotel.

 

Sharpy’s still there. He takes one look at Jonny then raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

Jonny just glares in response and takes a long swing of Patrick’s beer - even though he hates it and the taste kind of burns going down.

 

Next to him, Sharpy lets out a heavy sigh. “You know. I thought you would have been _less_ uptight, now that you’re getting laid regularly.”

 

Jonny freezes, mouth hung slack, fingers gripping the neck of the beer bottle loosely. He tries to school his expression back into a scowl, but he feels caught.

 

Sharpy narrows his eyes. “Tazer?”

 

Jonny takes another quick mouthful of beer then mumbles “we aren’t sleeping together,” into the bottle.

 

Sharpy frowns. “What was that?”

 

Jonny lets out a long breath. “I said... we aren’t...” he scrubs a hand over his face and then says quickly “sleeping together,” all mashed together. He can’t bear to meet Sharpy’s gaze.

 

“You’re... _not_ ? What the _fuck_?” Sharpy’s eyes go comically wide. “Why not?”

 

Why not? It seems like such an easy question. Why aren’t you and Patrick sleeping together now that you’re together, after eight years of wanting and missing each other?

 

Jonny doesn’t have an answer. He half shrugs.

 

“Clearly it’s not because you don’t want too,” Sharpy accuses.

 

“Clearly not,” Jonny bites back. He doesn’t need Sharpy throwing it back in his face that he’s so obviously still into Patrick - even if Patrick isn’t into him anymore.

 

“When was the last time?” Sharpy asks.

 

“World Cup...”

 

“You haven’t _at all_ since he got traded?” Sharpy shrieks again. Jonny grits his teeth. He’d just fucking told Sharpy they weren’t sleeping together. Why can’t he keep up?

 

“No.”

 

“But you’re together all the time-”

 

“I don't know what to tell you. We just aren’t.”

 

Sharpy frowns and looks like he’s planning on saying more. Jonny effectively cuts him off by raising a hand.

 

“I’m going to head out. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He stands and pushes his chair in roughly, not waiting for Sharpy’s reply. As soon as he’s outside he dials the number for a cab and then leans up against the building, waiting.

 

It feels like no time has passed before Patrick is at his side. Jonny bites down on his lip but doesn’t say anything, just looks at his through the corner of his eye.

 

“Sharpy said you were leaving?” Patrick jams his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels, gaze on the ground.

 

“Yep.” Jonny pops the ‘p’ with his tongue.

 

“Weren’t even going to say goodbye?”

 

Jonny pauses and takes the time to let his eyes trail over Patrick. From his scuffed up Nikes, his loose jeans and plaid t-shirt, to the way his shoulders are hunched as he refuses to meet Jonny’s gaze. Jonny wants him so bad. But looking at Patrick, all he can think about is the way that guy had leaned into Patrick, placed his hand on his elbow.

 

“You were kind of busy,” he snaps despite himself. “Where’s your friend gone?”

 

Patrick turns to him slowly, thick brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

 

Jonny responds by folding his arms over his chest and jutting his chin forward, mouth clamped shut.

 

“Are you talking about that guy at the bar?” Patrick demands suddenly, an edge to his voice. He pushes off the wall to stand in front of Jonny, eyes blazing suddenly.

 

Jonny looks upwards, still quiet.

 

“Oh my _god_ , you are!” Patrick yells. “Jesus, Jonny,” he snaps.

 

Jonny taps his foot, doesn’t say anything.

 

“So what, you’re not talking to me now?” Patrick hisses, hands flying up to give Jonny a shove in the chest. “Fuck you, man,” he says, giving another harder shove. Jonny shoves back, sending Patrick stumbling backward a little.

 

“Why don’t you go fuck your new friend?” Jonny fires back - and if he weren’t so angry, he’d be embarrassed by how childish that sounded.

 

“Maybe I will! It’s not like you’re fucking me!” Patrick yells, another shove.

 

“And who’s fault is that?” Jonny screams back, grabbing Patrick’s wrist and throwing his hands off his chest.

 

They’re both breathing heavy, inches away from each other. Patrick takes another step closer and tilts his head up so he’s looking directly into Jonny’s eyes.

 

Jonny throws a quick look over his shoulder, sees that they’re alone and says “fuck it,” quietly before wrapping his hand around the back of Patrick’s neck and yanking him closer, breaking the last couple of inches.

 

Patrick’s mouth tastes like beer and something distinctly _Patrick_. He melts into Jonny’s touch, lips working quickly against Jonny’s as his hands climb up his back, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt tightly.

 

Jonny eventually pulls away, leans his head against Patrick’s forehead and says “you want to come back to my place?”

 

Patrick grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! The final installment in this AU, and my largest fic to date.

The next morning, Jonny wakes up with Patrick’s blonde curls smushed into his face. He smiles against the top of his head and nuzzles in closer, not ready to get up yet. 

 

It’s not the first time they’ve woken up like this - but it feels like the start of something new. Patrick doesn’t have to leave, doesn’t have to run off to catch a flight. The only flights he’s taking are with Jonny - this can last. 

 

Jonny doesn’t move for a while, just lays there with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Patrick’s body pressed close to him. 

 

“Mmm,” Patrick moans sleepily a little while later, wiggling closer into Jonny’s chest. “Good morning.” His lips graze the skin as he speaks. 

 

“Good morning,” Jonny responds, placing his hand on the small of Patrick’s back and rubbing little circles. “Sorry about last night,” He mumbles into his shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to the skin. He’d been thinking about it ever since he woke up - how he treated Patrick last night. 

 

“Mm,” Patrick hums contently, stretching out in Jonny’s embrace. “I’m not.” 

 

“I was kind of a dick, about the whole...”  _ You flirting with another guy right in front of me _ , Jonny thinks but doesn’t say. There’s still a flicker of jealousy that wells up in his chest when he thinks about it, which isn’t fair. But. He doesn’t like to think about Patrick with anyone else - let alone  _ see _ it. 

 

“And then you sucked my dick,” Patrick laughs lightly, breaking out of Jonny’s arms and perching on his elbow so he can look Jonny in the eye. “So then I forgave you.” 

 

“Still... I shouldn’t have you know, if you wanted too-” He inhales deeply. “You can. You know. Go home with other people. It’s not fair of me-”

 

Patrick silences him with a kiss, their mouths working together in the best way they know how. Talking about things has never really been there thing - but this, mouth on mouth, skin on skin, has always been there thing. 

 

“Jonny,” Patrick sighs when he pulls back. He keeps their foreheads pressed together. “I don’t want to go home with anyone else, okay? I came looking for you didn’t I?” 

 

Jonny’s eyes slip closed but he nods against Patrick and swallows hard. “Yeah, you did.” 

 

“Besides, if I knew making you jealous would have gotten you that fired up, I would have done it weeks ago,” Patrick laughs as he flops over on to his back. 

 

“Fuck you,” Jonny mumbles with no heat behind it, shoving Patrick’s face away with his palm. “You’re an asshole.” 

 

Patrick answers by trailing kisses down Jonny’s chest, slow and teasing, past his belly button until he gets to the band of his boxers. He pauses then, looks at up Jonny through his thick blonde lashes with a devilish grin. 

 

“Fuck,” Jonny breathes out. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

 

*** 

 

“So,” Patrick says as he wipes down Jonny’s chest with a damp washcloth. “What do you usually do for Christmas?” 

 

Jonny takes the cloth from Patrick and aims it towards the hamper in the corner of his room. It bounces off the side and falls to the floor with a  _ thwack.  _

 

“Good thing you don’t play basketball,” Patrick chirps. It’s weak but Jonny rolls his eyes anyway. 

 

“Usually depends on the schedule - some years I make it home, some years I don’t.” It was harder when he was younger. He’d FaceTime his parents during their family supper, say hello to all his distance relatives from a hotel room or his apartment. It got easier, as he got older. He started spending it with his teammates if he couldn’t make it home, he enjoyed showing up with big presents for their little ones. 

 

“Won’t make it home this year, huh?” Patrick says sadly, fiddling with the blanket. And  _ oh shit _ , Jonny suddenly realizes why he’s asking. Patrick has always been home for Christmas. But there was no way their schedule would allow time for a trip to Buffalo. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jonny says because he doesn’t know what else to say. 

 

Patrick shrugs. “It’s fine. My family offered to fly out, but it didn’t feel fair you know? My sisters should get Christmas in their house. They shouldn’t have to replan their entire holiday because I’m here.” 

 

“We could spend it together? My family will be coming out on the 28th - but. Before then, I’m not doing anything.”

 

Patrick’s face lights up a little and Jonny feels an overwhelming sense of pride wash over him, being the one to make Patrick look like that. 

 

“Yeah?” He asks, eyes hopeful. 

 

“Of course.” He leans in and pecks a kiss on to his lips, soft and sweet. “It’ll be fun.” 

 

Patrick full on beams at that and it makes Jonny’s stomach swoop. All the tension he’d been feeling over the past month had melted away the moment he had Patrick pressed against him. 

 

“Just a warning - Christmas is my second favourite holiday. We Kanes have a tendency to go all out.” 

 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Jonny snorts as he gets out of bed and heads towards the shower. He pauses in the bathroom door and throws Patrick a look over his shoulder. “Wait what’s your first favourite holiday?” 

 

“The Fourth of July, Jonny,  _ duh, _ ” he says delightfully. 

 

Jonny groans because  _ of course it is.  _ “You’re ridiculous.” 

 

“You have no idea,” Patrick grins. “You’ll have to come to our party this year, learn to celebrate America for its greatness.” 

 

It’s just a joke - a chirp about Jonny thinking Canada is superior. But Jonny freezes anyway, caught off guard by the easy way Patrick suggests they spend time together in the off season. Jonny had mentioned it before, about Patrick coming to spend some time up at his lake. He didn’t think it was really going to happen - but, maybe things were shifting. 

 

“You know what, I’d love too,” Jonny says honestly. 

 

Patrick’s smile changes then - no traces of humour left in it, transforms into this soft little happy thing. Neither of them say anything for a minute, just smile at each other stupidly. 

 

“Okay,” Patrick eventually says. “Yeah. Awesome.” 

 

“Awesome,” Jonny echoes before turning and finally going into the bathroom. 

 

He showers with the same dumb smile on his face. 

 

*** 

 

“Hey, Toes, I want to talk to you for a second,” Sharpy says flatly when Jonny walks into the locker room, Patrick trailing behind him. 

 

Jonny’s jaw clenches as his eyes narrow at Sharpy. Patrick casts a weird look between them but must decide it’s none of his business, because he simply shrugs and heads over to his stall and busies himself with getting ready for practice. 

 

Jonny bites the inside of his cheek, studying Sharpy. “Alright,” he eventually sighs, craning his head in the direction of the door and then walking out. Sharpy follows behind. He keeps walking until they’re far from the locker room, at the end of the hall where no one's around to hear them. 

 

“Okay, talk,” Jonny grumbles, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. 

 

“Jeez, Tazer, you don’t have to be so defensive. I just want to talk.” 

 

“Yeah? About what? The weather? The power play? How’s your girls? I’m not an idiot, I know what you want to talk about.” 

 

Sharpy sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.” 

 

“Say whatever you’re going to say, we haven’t got all day.” 

 

Sharpy gives him a look of pure disappointment - one he seems to have mastered since becoming a father. “I just... wanted to talk about what happened last night.” 

 

“There it is,” Jonny grits out then pauses. “I already told you.” 

 

“You told me you guys aren’t sleeping together, ran out and then... left with Patrick, so... I’m just wondering what happened?” 

 

A blush starts to creep up Jonny’s neck. “I’m not going to discuss that with you!” 

 

“I don’t want specifics-” Sharpy clarifies quickly, a disgusted look on his face. “I’m just... I’m worried about you.” 

 

“You don’t have to,” Jonny says and leaves out the part that he’s a grown ass adult and not Sharpy’s little brother, no matter how much he seems to think so. He looks down at his shoes. “It’s fine, we worked everything out.” 

 

“You’re together, then?” Sharpy presses, because he never knows when to let something go. 

 

Jonny runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that - it never has been. It’s always been casual between us.” 

 

“Casual?” Sharpy echoes flatly. “You’re joking right?” 

 

Jonny glares back and hopes thats answer enough. 

 

“You’re a fucking moron, Toews! Sleeping with one person for the past  _ eight years  _ is not causal!” 

 

And that’s fine, Sharpy doesn’t get it - he never has. Because if he wanted to sleep with someone in college, he could without the worry that they’d sell the story and ruin his chances of being called to training camp. If he  wanted too, he could go to a bar and find a girl and take her home without worrying that every major news outlet would be commenting on his adultery - because no one gives a fuck about sex between a man and a woman. If it were Jonny taking some guy home, it’d be plastered everywhere. 

 

It’s not fucking fair and of course Sharpy doesn’t get it. 

 

“Well,” Jonny says dryly, trying to disguise the hitch in his voice. “If you’re just going to yell at me, I’d like to start getting ready for practice then, hm?” He turns on his heel before Sharpy gets the chance to reply and stomps towards the locker room. 

 

Everyone is mostly ready when Jonny gets back. He hurries, pulling on his gear without looking anyone in the eye. 

 

Sharpy comes in a minute after. Jonny doesn’t look at him as he heads out onto the ice. 

 

Later, during a break in between drills, Jonny catches Sharpy and Patrick talking at the other end of the rink, Patrick nodding up at Sharpy seriously. 

 

Jonny stiffens. He’s going to fucking  _ kill _ Sharpy if he doesn’t stop trying to meddle into his life. He tries to determine what they’re saying by their mouths moving, but comes up with nothing. 

 

Eventually Patrick laughs, throwing his head back at whatever Sharpy had said. Jonny relaxes - he’s fairly confident they weren’t talking about him, then. 

 

A couple minutes later Sharpy comes up to Jonny and sprays him with a shower of ice. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my place.” 

 

Jonny nods, looks at the ice as he mumbles “thanks.” 

 

***

 

“This one?” Jonny asks, pointing at a tree that looked exactly the same as every other one they’d looked at him. 

 

Patrick comes up in front of the tree, sizing it up and pursing his lips a little. “I don’t know...” he trails off, frowning. “It’s kind of... bare? Where are all the good trees?” 

 

“I guess this is what happens when you wait until Christmas Eve to pick out a tree,” Jonny throws back, continuing to walk to the next tree. “This one?” He asks helplessly. 

 

Patrick looks at him like there’s something wrong with him. 

 

“Guess not,” he grumbles and keeps going. 

 

“Hey!” Patrick cries suddenly. “This one isn’t too bad at all!” He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, lips pursed as he scratches his chin, studying the tree intently. It’s so ridiculous - Jonny wants to take a picture so he can keep this moment forever. 

 

“We don’t have any pictures together,” he says suddenly, without evening thinking about it. He’s only realizing it as the words fall from his mouth. 

 

Patrick turns, frowning in confusion. “What?” 

 

“I mean... I don’t think we have a single photo of us together, in 8 years...” he trails off, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

 

“Why don’t we get one with our perfect Christmas tree then?” Patrick offers, half smile on his lips. Before Jonny can even reply, Patrick is calling out “excuse me” and waving over a lady to take their picture. 

 

She tells them to say “cheese” and Patrick does with so much enthusiasm that Jonny is laughing when the photo is taken. She hands the phone back to Patrick, eyeing them slightly. Jonny stiffens - realizing what she’s probably thinking. 

 

“Look at your face!” Patrick is laughing, holding the phone out for Jonny to look at the photo. Patrick is smiling charmingly and Jonny is turned just slightly to look at him, caught right in the laugh - crinkly eyes and all. The picture is kind of perfect and Jonny finds himself not caring what that woman was thinking anymore. 

 

“Come on, let’s get this home and decorate it.” 

 

Patrick smiles blindingly back at him. 

 

*** 

 

So that’s how Jonny spends his Christmas Eve - decorating the Christmas tree while Patrick sings cheerful Christmas songs, snacking on Christmas themed treats that definitely do not fit into their diet plan, and then marathoning all Patrick’s favorite Christmas movie while eating Chinese takeout. 

 

All in all, it’s pretty great. 

 

“Almost like a real Kane Family Christmas,” Patrick sings happily as he pours himself another mug of hot chocolate. 

 

“One of the best Christmas Eves I’ve had in years,” Jonny says honestly. He reaches over and steals a marshmallow that’s floating around Patrick’s mug. 

 

“Aww,” Patrick coos, coming over to wrap his arms around Jonny’s waist. “Going soft on me, Jonny?” 

 

Jonny doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead just kisses Patrick, licking his way into his mouth. 

 

“You know,” Patrick mumbles into the kiss. “I’ve never had Christmas Eve sex before.” 

 

Jonny tightens his grip around his waist and says through a laugh “well, you’re about too.” 

 

*** 

 

“Merry Christmas, Jonny.” 

 

Jonny blinks his eyes open to see Patrick leaning over him, peering at him with an excited smile - so big it was almost demonic. 

 

“What the fuck?” He grumbles. “What time is it?” 

 

“Seven,” Patrick answers happily - way too cheery for seven am, Jesus. 

 

“And you’re waking me up because?” 

 

“Jonny! It’s  _ Christmas, _ oh my god. Please tell me you don’t sleep in on Christmas.” Patrick pushes himself up and then proceeds to leave the room, leaving Jonny frowning in confusion. Did he expect him to follow him?

 

No. Jonny was most definitely going back to sleep. It may be Christmas, but it’s also one of his few days off. 

 

Just as his eyes were drifting shut, Patrick came bounding back into the room - because of course he would. “Here,” he says, placing a ridiculous Christmas mug on the nightstand next to Jonny. “Drink this and I’ll make breakfast. Then we can open our presents.”

 

“You like Christmas too much,” Jonny sighs, giving in and sitting up. He takes a sip of the coffee, exactly how he likes it. 

 

“You said it was, and I quote,  _ adorable _ how much I love Christmas yesterday,” Patrick challenges. He’s still smiling widely, and as Jonny gulps down the coffee he’s starting to find Patrick immensely endearing once again. But he would never admit that. 

 

“Well that was before you decided to jump all over me at seven am,” Jonny counters, placing his mug back on the nightstand. Clearly it was the wrong thing to say, because Patrick’s smile transforms into this mischievous little thing and suddenly he’s  _ actually  _ jumping on Jonny. The unexpected force sends him sprawled out on his back, Patrick grinning on his chest. 

 

“Oof, get off of me you lunatic.” 

 

“I will, as soon as you get up.” 

 

“I can’t get up until you get off me.” 

 

“Oh right,” Patrick concedes but makes no show of moving. 

 

“Ever had Christmas morning sex?” Jonny asks, rolling his hips lazily against Patrick’s. 

 

Patrick smiles but narrows his eyes a little. “Not until after we eat breakfast and open presents.”

 

Jonny ignores him, mouthing at his neck. “Better get cooking then.” 

 

“Mm,” comes from Patrick. Jonny can't tell if he’s trying to agree or just moaning softly. He keeps going anyway, waiting for Patrick to stop him. 

 

Eventually he does, even if he sounds regretful. “After presents, yeah? My sisters are going to call and ask if I like their gifts.” 

 

“Fine,” Jonny groans, rolling over so he knocks Patrick off him. “What can I do to help you with breakfast?” 

 

Patrick smiles happily at him, face lit up like their Christmas tree. Jonny wonders if that smile will ever stop taking his breath away, stop knocking him off kilter. He doubts it - it’s more likely that Patrick will eventually stop smiling at him like that, and it’s kind of a depressing thought. It’s Christmas - he doesn’t need to think about what’s going to happen with Patrick eventually finds someone

 

“You can fry the bacon,” Patrick tells him, reaching up to press a quick kiss on his lips. He starts to turn away but Jonny grabs at his wrist, pulling him back for another. And then there’s that smile again - so easy and free. 

 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he says. If nothing else, he wants to keep that smile for as long as he can. 

 

“Me too,” Patrick says softly. 

 

***

 

“Okay, last two,” Patrick says as he takes two presents out from under the tree. He hands a to Jonny and keeps one for himself. 

 

They’d already opened up the presents their families had sent. Patrick’s sisters mostly gave him clothes, to which he explained that they’re constantly badgering him about his awful taste in clothes. Jonny laughs and says he agrees and Patrick fires a ball of wrapping paper at his head. 

 

Now though - Patrick is holding the gift Jonny got for him, and it’s making him kind of nervous. Jonny’s never had to get a gift for someone he’s romantically involved with before -  _ obviously _ , since he’s only ever been romantically involved with Patrick and they didn’t see each other for holidays or birthdays. Jonny knows though, how much the other guys used to stress about gift giving when they were in a newish relationship. Trying to get something to accurately represent the level of commitment with a present. 

 

For Jonny, there was that extra level of stress - he didn’t  _ know _ what they were. It wasn’t like shopping for a friend, but it wasn’t exactly like shopping for a new boyfriend either. They’d been whatever for eight years. And there wasn’t anyone Jonny could call up and ask for advice, without either a) explaining the situation or b) dealing with Sharpy and his judgment. 

 

So. 

 

“ _ Jonny, _ ” Patrick says softly as he stares down at the present. He’s smiling, the tiniest bit. 

 

Jonny holds his breath as he waits for more indication on whether or not he likes it. 

 

When Patrick looks up, his face is wrecked. “Thank you,” he says and his voice hitches a little. 

 

Jonny shrugs one shoulder and looks down, feeling all awkward and embarrassed. “I noticed you stopped wearing your Sabres one, so...” he trails off, making an awkward hand gesture. 

 

“Put it on me?” Patrick asks, standing to come over and sit in front of Jonny, facing away from him. He holds out his plan, face up and Jonny takes the chain from his hand. He looks at it for another second, the white gold of the Blackhawks logo, before hanging it around Patrick’s neck. 

 

“How’s it look?” Patrick asks as he pulls back. 

 

Jonny clears his throat. “Good, uh yeah looks good. You look good as a Blackhawk.” 

 

Patrick grins. “Yeah, I think it suits me. Now open yours!” 

 

Jonny obeys, carefully ripping the wrapping paper off the small box. “Golf balls,” he says, trying to sound enthusiastic about them. Instead he’s feeling a little panicked - maybe his gift was too much. Maybe it’s going to scare Patrick off or make him think Jonny’s more serious than him. 

 

Patrick laughs. “Turn it over, dude,” he motions to the box. 

 

Jonny raises an eyebrow and does as told. On the bottom of the box there’s a blank envelope. Inside is a certificate for a round of golf at The Country Club of Buffalo for July 6th. 

 

“Figured we could get some golf in, when you come to Buffalo for the fourth.” 

 

Jonny blinks at him in surprise. 

 

It’s the best gift he’s ever gotten - better than the autographed Gretzky jersey he’d gotten for his 10th birthday. 

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Jonny tells him. 

 

Patrick looks wary for a second. “Say you’ll come?” He suggests. 

 

“Of course!” He gushes quickly. “Of course I’ll come, I... I can’t wait. This. It’s the best gift ever.” 

 

“So, Christmas morning sex then?” 

 

“Christmas morning sex,” Jonny agrees, wrapping his hand around Patrick’s neck and pulling him close. 

 

Afterwards they cook supper. It’s not a Kane family Christmas meal - they don’t have time to cook a full turkey dinner. But it’s good nonetheless - stuff chicken breast with mashed potatoes, vegetables and gravy. Jonny had even picked up a dessert platter the day before. 

 

They separate for a bit to FaceTime their families. Jonny’s mom frowns when she realizes he hadn’t gone to the Sharps or Seabrooks for dinner like years past. 

 

“You’re all alone?” She asks, voice dipping with concern. 

 

“I’m not alone,” he tells her, fiddling with the cords to his headphones. “Patrick is here.” 

 

“Patrick.... Patrick Kane?” She asks, confused. Jonny hadn’t mentioned his friendship with Patrick to his family. It would feel weird, telling them they’re friends without mentioning that they have been for years. Not mentioning it at all feels less like he’s lying to them. 

 

“Uh, yeah. It’s his first away from his family so I invited him over and... yeah. He’s here.” 

 

His mom smiles. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” But he can see it - the slight curiosity in her expression. She exchanges a quick glance with his father. 

 

His mom had asked him once before, if he were seeing anyone. He’d told her no, which was mostly true, and said it was too risky for him to date while playing in the NHL. Which again, was mostly true. She had looked at him sadly, saying he couldn’t put off his own happiness for hockey forever. He knows she worries about him - he isn’t getting any younger. 

 

He debates telling her about Patrick, just so she doesn’t worry. But it feels like giving her false hope. She won’t understand, just like Sharpy. There’s no good way to tell your mom that you’ve been someone’s fuck buddy for eight years. 

 

He switches the conversation to their family, asking about cousins and aunts and uncles. 

 

They finish the conversation shortly after. Patrick is still chatting away when Jonny comes out of the bedroom, telling a story and waving his arms animatedly. He stops when he sees Jonny and smiles. “My family says hi.” 

 

“Tell then I say hello back,” Jonny tells him. 

 

They watch Elf - because Patrick says his family does every year. It starts snowing halfway through the movie, big wet snowflakes that stick to the window. 

 

“Want to go for a walk?” Jonny suggests and Patrick eyes him like he’s crazy but agrees nonetheless. They drive to the park - it’s nearly empty - and walk around and look at all the Christmas lights. It feels like something you’d do on a date. It feels  _ like  _ a date. Jonny guesses it kind of is. He’s not sure what he thinks about that. 

 

He kind of wants to hold Patrick’s hand. He doesn’t, because even though it’s practically empty, they can’t take the risk. And because he’s not sure how Patrick would respond to it. 

 

Boxing Day is spent visiting Seabs and Duncs and Sharpy - delivering gifts to the kids and having a little bit of food at everyone’s houses. 

 

At one point, Sharpy takes him outside and looks at him pointedly. “Spending Christmas together isn’t  _ casual _ .” 

 

Jonny shrugs because what is there to say to that? 

 

Afterwards they head back to Jonny’s and watch the first World Junior game, trading their expectations back and forth. 

 

“This is USA’s year to take it,” Patrick says confidently. 

 

“Canada’s game,” Jonny says simply. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.” 

 

It’s kind of the perfect Christmas, all in all. 

 

***

 

The team has a New Year's Eve party every year. Some years it’s on the road, depending on their schedules. Years like this, where they can have them in Chicago are always the best, everyone’s wives and girlfriends come along. And it’s nice, having a big party instead of just the team. 

 

Jonny hasn’t had too much to drink - just enough to make him feel warm and smiley, surrounded by the people he loves most. 

 

He’s just talking to Coach’s wife about her garden when Patrick bounds over, grinning and wrapping his arm around Jonny’s shoulder. “Hey ya,” he says with a giggle. 

 

“Hey yourself,” Jonny replies, smiling down at him.

 

“Some rookies want to challenge us to a game of beer pong, you in?” 

 

Jonny hesitates and looks at Elizabeth. It would be rude to just skip out on her.  

 

She smiles though, seeming to understand what’s going on without Jonny saying anything. “Go, Jonathan, it’s alright. I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge.” 

 

“Thanks,” Jonny says politely then turns to Patrick. “Who’s ass are we kicking?” 

 

Patrick nods in the direction of a room off to the side. “That’s my boy,” he grins and Jonny’s heart clenches a little. 

 

Hartman and Schmaltz are there, filling up plastic cups of beer. They’re chatting excitedly and Jonny almost feels bad - knowing he’s going to crush their excitement any second now. 

 

They win easily, because of course they do. That’s one thing Jonny has learned over the past month and a half. He and Patrick make a great team. 

 

“I need a refill before the countdown starts,” Hartzy mumbles moodily before stalking off. Jonny looks up at the TV and sees that, yeah, shit it’s only one minute to midnight. Everyone is starting to congregate in the centre of the room, couples together, ready for their midnight kiss. 

 

“Hey,” Jonny blurts, hand on Patrick’s elbow. “Come with?” 

 

Patrick looks up at him with a questioning glance but shrugs. “Yeah, okay.” He picks up two full cups of beer and follows Jonny. 

 

Jonny in all honesty isn’t sure where they’re going - it was just a spur of the moment kind of idea. He was looking at his teammates, ready to count down and kiss their significant other at midnight. He’d been there before - awkwardly shouting Happy New Year and then standing around watching as everyone got their New Year’s kiss. 

 

He didn’t want to stand their and smile awkwardly at Patrick. 

 

Jonny finds an empty room just as he hears the crowd start counting down from ten. 

 

He turns to Patrick. “Eight, seven,” he says as he says as he takes a step closer. 

 

“Six, five,” Patrick chimes in, tilting his face upwards. 

 

“Three, two,” they both say together. Jonny reaches out and cups Patrick’s jaw with his hands. 

 

“One,” he whispers softly as he lips brush against Patricks, gently at first. There’s the hollering of  _ Happy New Year _ in the background, the sound of party horns and cheering. Jonny kisses harder, his hand curling against the small of Patrick’s back so he can pull him closer. He bites at Patrick’s lower lip and his mouth instantly opens for him, their tongues swirling together. 

 

After a long moment he has to pull back, because if he doesn’t stop himself now he’s not sure he’ll be able too after. And they’re still at a party with all their teammates and a huge chunk of the Blackhawks organization. So. 

 

“Happy New Year, Pat,” Jonny says softly, resting his forehead against Patrick’s, not untangling himself just yet. He brushes his thumb against Patrick’s cheekbone. His smile is wobbly. If he’s a little emotional, it’s only because this is something he’s never been allowed to have before. 

 

“Happy New Year, Jonny,” Patrick says back, smile all soft and gooey. He’s looking at Jonny like he’s everything he ever wanted and it’s - it’s overwhelming. 

 

Despite everything he’s afraid of, Jonny whispers back “I think it’s going to be a good year.” 

 

Looking at Patrick, he just knows it. 

 

*** 

 

“Jesus, Kaner, would you cut that out?” Sharpy grumbles, reaching out over the aisle to place his hand on Patrick’s knee, stopping it from juggling. 

 

“Sorry,” Patrick mumbles but he’s grinning wildly. He’s been jittery for the past 15 minutes, ever since they announced they would be starting to descend soon. He’s family is waiting for him at arrivals. 

 

“Fuck yeah,” Schmaltz screams from a few rows back. “USA in the finals baby!” 

 

Patrick turns immediately, eyes wide. “They won?” 

 

“Don’t get too excited,” Jonny comments next to him. “They’re playing Canada.” 

 

“Yeah,” Patrick snorts back, facing forward in his seat again and giving Jonny a bored expression. “I’m not worried about Canada. We got this.” 

 

“Sure you do, keep believing that. It’ll just be so much more satisfying for me when you lose.” 

 

Patrick’s eyes narrow. “Wanna bet?” 

 

“Ooh, I like the sound of this,” Sharpy perks up next to them. “What are you going to wager?” 

 

Patrick looks like he’s considering for a moment, lips pursed. Then his face lights up suddenly. “I know! Loser wears winners teams jersey and tweets a picture of them wearing it.” 

 

Jonny snorts. “You’ll never catch me in a USA jersey.” 

 

“Scared?” Patrick taunts. 

 

“So it’s a good thing Canada isn’t going to lose. Deal.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, Jonny, we’ll see.”

 

The rest of the guys nearby catch wind of the bet and it remains the topic of conversation for the rest of their descent. Schmaltz claps Jonny on the back as they’re unboarding, grinning. “Heard you’re joining our side, Tazer, can’t wait.” 

 

Jonny rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother me with a response. As if. 

 

“So,” Patrick says as he hikes his bag over his shoulder. “What are you doing tonight?” 

 

“Dunno, heading back to the hotel I suppose. What about you? Meeting up with your old teammates later?”

 

Patrick shakes his head. “Going to crash at my parents house, after supper. Do you... do you want to come?” 

 

“Uh,” Jonny says. He doesn’t mean to let it slip out but he’s honestly just a little stunned. He definitely did not expect to be invited to supper with Patrick’s family. The thoughts a bit scary - but it’s nice, too. “To supper?” 

 

Patrick half shrugs, looking down. “I mean, if you want too.” 

 

Jonny smiles back. “Yeah, actually, I do.” 

 

Patrick smiles back and Jonny ignores Sharpy’s voice in the back of his head, the part that’s saying  _ this isn’t casual, man.  _

 

“Cool. Well, they’re at arrivals, so.” 

 

Jonny casts a look over his shoulder and decides he doesn’t care what the rest of the team thinks about him going to dinner with Patrick’s family. 

 

He’s a bit nervous when he sees the Kane clan - easy to identify by the glittery sign that reads “WELCOME HOME PATTY” in big bubble letters. They start waving excitedly as soon as they come into view. 

 

Patrick grins, one of the biggest and most relaxed grins that Jonny’s ever seen him wear. 

 

“This is usually when I would warn teammates that my sisters are off limits, but, guess I don’t have to worry about that, now.” 

 

Jonny lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, think you’re safe there man,” he says, body shaking a little with his caught off guard laughter. Patrick is chuckling back, shaking his head slowly. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Mrs. Kane asks, as they reach Patrick’s family. 

 

Patrick glances at Jonny through the corner of his eye, sucking his smile inwards. “Nothing,” he tells her, reaching out to give her a hug. He winks at Jonny and Jonny has to hide his own smile then, at their own little secret. 

 

Patrick’s sisters gush excitedly as they take turns hugging him, talking a mile a minute all at the same time. Jonny blinks, trying to keep up but Patrick just goes with it, answering their questions and appreciating whatever news they’re telling him. 

 

“Good to have you back, son,” Mr. Kane says, clapping Patrick on the back, then pulling him into a side hug. “And Jonny, it’s great to meet you. It’s nice that Patrick was able to make such a good friend in Chicago.” 

 

Jonny sees two of Patrick’s sisters exchange a look, and maybe it’s not just Patrick and his secret after all. 

 

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Jonny replies, because he’s nothing if not polite. “It’s great having Patrick on the team.” 

 

“Of course,” one of Patrick’s sisters chime in - the youngest, Jonny thinks. “Patty is the best player in the league, who wouldn’t want him on their team.” 

 

Patrick rolls his eyes and swats at her shoulder. 

 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jonny says honestly. Patrick’s head whips around to Jonny, looking a little stunned. He quirks an eyebrow and Jonny shrugs. He meant what he said. Patrick is without a doubt one of the best in the league. 

 

The youngest sister grins widely at Jonny.

 

“Pat, honey, you should introduce your sisters to Jonny,” Mrs. Kane reminds him. 

 

“Right,” Patrick says. “This is Jackie,” he points to the youngest. “This is Erica, and that’s Jessica. I’ve already given him the sisters speech.” 

 

Erica rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around Patrick’s shoulder. “Of course, how could you forget the sisters speech.” 

 

“Alright, let's get out of here, your mother has supper left on the warmer,” Mr. Kane says, picking Patrick’s bag up off the floor. 

 

“You don’t have too,” Patrick objects but his dad doesn’t listen. Patrick rolls his eyes but smiles. It’s the most relaxed Jonny has ever seen him, completely content around the people he loves. Despite the warm welcome, Jonny feels a bit like he’s intruding on something he’s not meant to be apart of. 

 

One of Patrick’s sisters - he’s already forgotten who’s who...- starts up a conversation with Jonny about Winnipeg, asking him about his family and his life there and if it’s really as cold as they say it is. 

 

“Yeah,” Jonny grins - and it’s weird, the sense of pride that comes with it. 

 

Patrick tells his sister - Jessica, he calls her (Jonny has to try to keep them straight, and quick) - that if she loves Canada so much, she should go up there and live in an igloo. Jonny just rolls his eyes, swatting Patrick in the back of his head. 

 

The rest of the evening is nice, easy in a way Jonny’s never felt before. The Kane’s are wonderful and he doesn’t really feel like he’s got anything to hide in front of them. 

 

Every now and then he’ll catch one of Patrick’s sisters eyeing him carefully, like they’re trying to figure something out. Jonny remembers then that Patrick said he’d told his sisters about them - years ago. It makes Jonny swallow hard and makes him feel like he needs to work harder to impress them, to prove he’s good enough for Patrick. Which is ridiculous. 

 

“Big game soon,” Mr. Kane directs at him at one point. 

 

Jonny nods in agreement. “Patrick’s first time playing against his old teammates, gotta he weird.” 

 

“I’m sure, but I was meaning Canada and USA.” 

 

“Ah,” Jonny hums, meeting Patrick’s gaze across the table. “That game.” 

 

“Tell him about the bet, Jonny,” Patrick says gleefully. Then before Jonny even has a chance to say anything about it, he adds “you’re going to be seeing Jonny boy here sporting some stripes and stars soon!” 

 

Mr. Kane raises an eyebrow at Jonny. “Is that so?” 

 

Holding back a grimace, Jonny says “Patrick seems to think so. But it’s more likely that he’ll be wearing a Maple leaf on his chest.” 

 

All six Kanes look at him like he’s insane at that. Jonny just shrugs. He has faith in Canada - they won’t let him down. 

 

After supper, Jonny ends up helping Mrs. Kane with the dishes while Patrick goes into the living room with his dad. 

 

“I’m so glad Patrick has you,” Mrs. Kane says as one point while passing Jonny a dish to dry. “We were so worried, when he got traded - I know he’s older now, but. He’s never liked playing away from home. It’s nice to know he has someone in Chicago.” 

 

It makes him wonder how much she knows. Patrick has never told them anything about them - that much he knows, but if she’s anything like Jonny’s mother, she’s probably perceptive as hell. Especially when it comes to her son. He feels guilty, letting her think there’s something more going on here. Patrick deserves what she probably thinks he has - not this messed up situation Jonny has been dragging him through for eight years. 

 

“I’m glad to have him, too,” he says, because it’s the truth and because he wants to assure Mrs. Kane, even if he’s not sure what he’s assuring her. 

 

She smiles and pats him on the arm before starting on the next pot, changing the subject to ask him about his family. 

 

*** 

 

The USA and Canada game is the exact same time as their game against Buffalo. 

 

Patrick’s got their equipment manager updating him on the score periodically. It’s a bit amusing to Jonny, seeing how Patrick had come in and so easily charmed every member of the Blackhawks organization. It reminds him of their first All Star Game, when Jonny had been watching him from afar, jealous of the easy way Patrick bounced around from group to group, smiling and chatting easily. 

 

“Canada just tied it up,” Troy calls out. 

 

Half the bench raises their hands in celebration - Jonny’s proud to have so much Canadian representation on his team. 

 

Patrick’s on the ice, so Jonny has to wait for him to switch to gloat at him. He’s feeling pretty smug about it, confident that this is Canada’s game. 

 

“They’re pulling their goalie,” someone says and Jonny snaps back into focus, forgetting about the juniors and focusing on the hockey being played in front of him. His teeth sink down into his lower lip as he watches a beautiful pass made between two Buffalo players. It soars past Seabs and then the Eichel is firing a slap shot that goes top shelf. 

 

“Fuck,” Jonny grits, hitting his stick against the board and looking up at the clock. Fifty six seconds left. 

 

His line is called and he heads out for the faceoff, winning easily and then desperately trying to set Sharpy up for a goal. He doesn’t want this to go to overtime. 

 

The buzzer sounds as he’s battling with two different sticks for the puck. He scrubs a hand over his face and skates back towards the bench. Coach gives them the plan, and Jonny listens intently, nodding furiously as he speaks. 

 

He’s putting Jonny and Patrick out together - which sounds like a good plan to Jonny. They’ve been playing amazing together on the power play. 

 

“Let’s end this quick,” he tells Patrick, tapping him on the helmet. 

 

“Canada USA going to overtime too!” Troy calls out. 

 

Patrick grins at Jonny. “America!” 

 

“Let’s worry about our game first.” 

 

Which doesn’t turn out to be a problem at all - fifty six seconds into overtime, Jonny takes a shot that’s blocked by Nilsson. The puck rebounds straight to Patrick’s stick. Jonny watches as Patrick one times it - then the puck is in the back of the net and Jonny it skating over and slamming Patrick in the boards to celebrate. 

 

“Fuck yeah!” He roars as Patrick jumps against his, arms in the air. 

 

Patrick skates over to his old teammates then, tapping them all on the helmets and probably saying good game, or whatever you say to the people you played with for nine years, after crushing them. Jonny wouldn’t know. 

 

Jonny feels so light and happy in that moment, as he watches Patrick - wearing bright red amongst a sea of blue. It was only a month and a half ago that he was counting down to this day, looking forward to getting Patrick for one night. And now he has him - he gets to play with him, score goals with him, win with him, and then go home with him after and do it all over again. 

 

Patrick catches his eye and smiles at Jonny and there’s just so many feelings floating around in Jonny’s chest, he feels like he could drown in them. 

 

The elevated feeling diminishes quickly, as he skates over to the bench after shaking hands, only to be told that Canada lost in a  _ fucking shootout _ . 

 

“That’s no way to decide a medal game, what the fuck,” Jonny spits out. 

 

Patrick rolls his eyes, smiling. “USA won fair and square. Don’t be a baby about it.”

 

Jonny summons up his best glare for that. 

 

“Can’t wait to see you in my jersey,” Patrick supplies happily. 

 

“Fuck you,” Jonny retorts. 

 

*** 

 

Patrick wastes no time - as soon as Jonny’s coming out of the shower, Patrick’s handing him his USA jersey. Jonny recognizes it from the World Cup - and it’s just another reminder how much things have changed this year. 

 

“You’re prepared,” Jonny grumbles, yanking it from his grasp. 

 

“Was confident in my team, knew we could do it.” 

 

“In a  _ shootout,”  _ Jonny reminds him bitterly. “Literally means nothing and you know it.” 

 

“Put the damn jersey on Toews,” Patrick says with an eyeroll. He pulls on his own, grinning. “Let’s do this.” 

 

Sharpy offers to take the photo, because he’s more of a dick than he is Canadian. 

 

Patrick grins at the camera, arms crossed over his chest. Jonny leans in, hoping his expression conveys how much he hates every part of this. 

 

“Take another,” Patrick says, switching to point at him. Jonny places a hand over his face. 

 

Patrick leans in then, lips close to Jonny’s ear and says “88 looks good on you. You should wear my jersey more often.” 

 

Jonny tenses, a shiver going down his spine at the words. Then Patrick just walks away, over to Sharpy, leaving him dumbstruck and gaping. 

 

Patrick beams at the phone when it’s returned to him. “Amazing. Truly amazing. This should be hung in every museum in America.” He laughs. “Look at your face, fuck.” 

 

“I hate you,” Jonny says. And he tries to mean it, he really does. But he's sure it comes out sounding like the exact opposite. 

 

***

 

Patrick ends up going out with his teammates the next night. He asks Jonny if he wants to come - but Jonny declines, knowing Patrick needs that time by himself to reconnect with his old team. Plus, it’s not lost on him how weird that would look - if he showed up. Jonny’s not exactly sure how much he and Patrick are keeping it a secret anymore. To be honest, he doesn’t care that much if the rest of the team finds out - he’s starting to feel more comfortable with the idea. 

 

But. 

 

But he’s not sure Patrick feels the same. And he wouldn't want to do anything that would make Patrick feel uncomfortable. 

 

So Patrick goes out with his team and Jonny heads back to his hotel room. Discovery channel is playing some reruns from last summer's shark week, so he watches that until he drifts off. 

 

There’s a knock on his door, and when he opens it he sees Patrick, leaning against the door frame with a leering smile. 

 

“Hello, there, sexy,” he says, placing a hand on Jonny’s chest and pushing him backwards, entering the room. 

 

So Patrick goes out with his own team, but he still ends up in Jonny’s hotel room, hammered and sucking Jonny’s dick like he’s trying to win a gold medal or something. 

 

All in all, it works out great for Jonny. 

 

It’s even funnier the next morning when Patrick is terribly hungover and whining from the bed as Jonny packs his things. 

 

“Hate flying hungover,” Patrick grumbles. 

 

“Should have thought about that before you took all those shots.” 

 

“Hmm,” Patrick hums. 

 

“You should really get back to your room, do some packing,” Jonny points out, turning to give Patrick a look over his shoulder. 

 

“Fuck, Jesus, alright,” Patrick sighs before pushing off the bed. He’s naked, still, and Jonny averts his gaze before he ends up making them late for a whole other reason. He catches a glimpse of Patrick’s chest from the corner of his eye, though - the marks Jonny had left with his teeth. 

 

Patrick catches him looking with a glare. “You’re a damn leech,” he grumbles but doesn’t actually look upset about it. 

 

Jonny doesn’t say anything, just watches, with his head cocked, as Patrick slips into his clothes from the night before. 

 

“See you at the bus?” 

 

“Yeah, see you.” 

 

***

 

“Hey... Tazer?” 

 

Jonny looks up from his breakfast, to see Schmaltz standing in front of him, holding a plate of food and looking very unsure. 

 

“What’s up?” Jonny asks carefully. “You want to sit?” He nods to the chair across from him. 

 

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” He sits and starts picking at his omelette, not saying anything. 

 

Jonny narrows his eyes. “Everything okay there?” He tries to keep his tone casual despite the way his shoulders clench with tension. 

 

“Uh, yeah, I just - I wanted to... I saw you, well not you but-“ he stammers out, then stops suddenly, eyes on the table. “I saw Kaner leaving your hotel room this morning and I just...” 

 

Anything Jonny had been worried about Schmaltz saying would have been  _ way  _ better than this. His heart sinks in his chest, at the awkward and uncomfortable way Schmaltz is looking at him. 

 

Just yesterday he’d been thinking that he’d be okay with the team knowing - but if the way Schmaltz is looking at him is any indication, everyone finding out would be as bad as he’s always feared. 

 

“What are you-“ Jonny starts, trying to cover it up like he has no idea what he means. “I don’t understand. Kaner came by my room this morning? What’s the big deal?” 

 

Schmaltz frowns. “I’m not trying to imply anything - but you went to his family’s house for supper and then he was leaving your room and I was just wondering-“ 

 

“Well, dont, okay?” Jonny snaps, despite himself. “You’re wrong, whatever it is you’re thinking, so. I don’t know what to tell you?” 

 

Jonny stabs a piece of egg with his fork and shoves it into his mouth, trying to avoid the rest of this conversation. 

 

Schmaltz opens his mouth to say something then closes it, frowning down at his plate. He takes a sip of his water then puts it down again, eyes flickering all over the place. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to - it’s none of my business.”

 

“It’s really not,” Jonny agrees, even if that’s giving away more than he wants too. 

 

“Forget I said anything.” 

 

“Already forgotten,” Jonny returns, voice clipped. 

 

They proceed to eat in silence - it must be the most awkward meal Jonny has ever suffered through. Thankfully Seabs shows up not long after. He doesn’t have much to say, either, but it lessens the awkwardness. 

 

Schmaltz gives Jonny a torn look before he leaves, like he wants to say more, but the glare Jonny returns it with must stop him. 

 

The conversation stays on his mind, making him feel jittery for the entire flight. He didn’t sit next to Patrick, like he normally would, instead sliding in next to Seabs. 

 

He could feel Patrick’s eyes on him, could practically  _ hear _ Patrick’s mind racing. 

 

And sure enough, the second that Jonny closed his apartment door behind them, Patrick was saying “what’s going on with you?” 

 

“Nothing,” Jonny said quickly, busying himself by watering the plants on his window sill. 

 

He heard Patrick sigh heavily behind him, then his retreating footsteps. He doesn’t want to tell Patrick that Schmaltz potentially knows about them. He’s not sure he’s ready to see Patrick’s reaction. 

 

Patrick comes back eventually. Jonny’s still got his back turned, but he hears the creaking of the chair Patrick sits in. He can’t bring himself to turn around - not yet. 

 

“Seriously,” Patrick finally presses, after what feels like an eternity but is more like two minutes. “Everything was fine this morning. Then you started ignoring me? What did I do?” 

 

“You... Nothing,” Jonny sighs, giving in and turning to face Patrick. He looked small, face filled with worry. “You did nothing. Nick saw you, leaving my room this morning and he kind of integrated me about it and. I just thought I should back off a little, you know?” 

 

Understanding seems to wash over Patrick’s face. 

 

“I see,” he says slowly. “Okay. Well. I’m going to go then.”

 

Jonny opens his mouth to argue - to tell Patrick to stay. But he clamps it shut quickly. This is what he was afraid of. 

 

“Alright,” he says instead. “I’ll see you later.” 

 

He watches as Patrick leaves, wordlessly, and thinks about how different everything was just this morning. 

 

Every time he starts to feel like things are falling into place, something seems to happen - something that knocks him completely off course, leaves him stumbling and trying to find his footing. One of these days he’s eventually going to fall. It’s only a matter of time. 

 

***

 

There had been a time when Jonny’s life didn’t include Patrick, obviously - but it felt like so long ago, that he had a hard time picturing those days. 

 

But, not long ago, there had also been a time when Patrick didn’t take up so much of Jonny’s time. When they would go months without seeing each other - when Jonny could go weeks without thinking of Patrick. 

 

So, it was a bit fucking ridiculous that now, Jonny was all off kilter after two days of Patrick not speaking to him. 

 

It was like his entire routine was thrown - he didn’t seem to know what to do without Patrick invading his space, his life. 

 

To be fair - Jonny wasn’t exactly speaking to him, either, in the sense that he hadn’t reached out since Patrick had left his apartment two days earlier. They’d avoided each other pretty easily at practice and then they’d had the day off yesterday, so it wasn’t that difficult. But the team was going out to celebrate Hartzy’s birthday that night. Usually, he and Patrick would ride together to things like this. Jonny wasn’t sure if Patrick planned on continuing to avoid him - but it would be pretty damn obvious that something was up if he did. 

 

He had all this nervous energy built up as he got ready. Which turned out to be for nothing, because as soon as Jonny arrived to the private room they had booked out at the steakhouse, Patrick nodded at him and gestured to the seat to his right. 

 

“Ordered you a beer,” Patrick says instead of a hello, a small smile on his lips. 

 

Jonny couldn’t help the inevitable smile that crawled up his face at that. So they were just kind of sitting there smiling at each other. 

 

And then Schmaltz walks in and Jonny’s eyes shift to him and Patrick sighs loudly and just like that the moment was broken. 

 

Sharpy’s over by them not long after, chatting with Patrick about the latest episode of some show they’re both watching - one Jonny has no interest in, so he doesn’t have much to contribute to the conversation but he is glad to have a buffer. 

 

He gets into a conversation with a couple guys about fishing, that sort of evolves into a debate and carries them through most of the meal. 

 

He doesn’t even really realize that he’s drunk until they’re standing up to leave, everyone discussing which bar they’re going to hit up. 

 

He stumbles a little while pushing his chair in and Sharpy turns to look at him, delighted. “You okay there, Cap?” 

 

Jonny blinks a couple times against the spinny feeling and tries to backtrack and calculate just how many beers he's drunk. The food service had been slow - but the waitress was always quick to bring out more drinks. 

 

‘’’M fine,” he mumbles, frowning slightly. 

 

“You’re on babysitting duty,” Sharpy says, jabbing Patrick in the chest. Jonny’s frown turns into a scowl as he informs them both that he doesn’t need a babysitter. His eyes shift over to Patrick, then, wondering if he’s as drunk as Jonny. 

 

They end up at some bar Hartzy had chosen, one Jonny’s never been too - it leaves him feeling sort of old, surrounded by early twenty-year-olds. 

 

Jonny, Seabs, Duncs, Sharpy, Crow and Patrick all end up at a table together, the old crowd in the back of the bar. They get asked for a couple pictures but other than that they’re mostly left alone, ignored for a dance floor filled with girls that all look the same to Jonny, all wearing some variation of the same outfit. 

 

The night passes by, Jonny’s slowed down on drinking but he’s still got that hazy drunk feeling. Duncs and Seabs head out, and then Sharpy and Crow go to the bar. So it’s just Patrick and Jonny left at the table. They’re not saying much, Jonny’s just bobbing his head along to some Drake song when Patrick says:

 

“How do you not get weak in the knees every time Sharpy smiles at you?” 

 

Jonny freezes. What. The.  _ Fuck _ . “What the fuck?” He barks. 

 

Patrick turns to look at Jonny then, a sly smile on his face. “Oh come  _ on _ , Jonny, that smile? That gorgeous hair. Sharpy’s hot, dude.” 

 

Jonny scowls further, eyeing Sharpy across the room with some much fiery anger that his head spins a little. “Get up, come on. Fuck you, we’re leaving.” 

 

Patrick raises one eyebrow but doesn’t look at all surprised, definitely doesn’t object. He looks a little smug actually, standing and  smiling waiting to follow Jonny out of the club. 

 

They pass Sharpy on the way out, and Jonny is drunk enough that he can’t stop himself from shouldering Sharpy, hard, as he walks by him. “Stay the fuck away from Patrick,” he growls before storming off and leaving Sharpy standing their, looking completely dumbfounded. 

 

Jonny takes Patrick home, lays him out on the bed and sucks his dick for so long, until he’s practically begging for  _ anything.  _

 

Afterwards, sleepy and blissed out, Patrick mumbles into Jonny’s collar bone. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.” 

 

It dawns on him, so obviously, that Patrick had been trying to make him jealous  _ on purpose.  _

 

Jonny’s to warm and content to care at that point, with Patrick squashed against his side, warm breath tickling the crook of his neck. “Good night, Patrick.” 

 

***

 

Surprisingly, Jonny feels good the next morning, no traces of a hangover despite the lack of water he’d drank last night. 

 

Patrick is still passed out next to him, one leg kicked out under the blanket, arm thrown over Jonny’s chest, mouth hanging open. 

 

Jonny looks at him for a moment, his stomach flipping in that way he’s come to associate with looking at Patrick. Eventually he has to get up to pee, so he tries to roll out from Patrick without waking him. 

 

When he returns, shaking droplets of water off his hands, he’s surprised to see Patrick sitting up right, smiling softly. “Good morning.” 

 

Jonny crawls back under the blankets. “Morning,” he answers, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

 

“So,” Patrick says and all of a sudden he’s got this sly look on his face. “I guess anytime I want a blowjob I should just start going on about Sharpy?” 

 

“Fuck you,” Jonny says, but there’s no heat behind it. He’s actually kind of smiling. 

 

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” 

 

Neither of them make any move to actually do anything though. Jonny is happy to just lay in bed with Patrick, the room silent except for the spinning of the ceiling fan. Patrick’s fingers trace tiny circles along Jonny’s bicep. 

 

It’s so nice, kind of the perfect moment, that Jonny finds himself blurting - without even really thinking about it - “did I ever tell you you were my first crush?” 

 

That’s got Patrick sitting up, eyes a little wide as he stares at Jonny. “What? No?” 

 

“I never told you?” Jonny hums. 

 

“ _ Definitely  _ not,” Patrick laughs in return. “You’re serious, hey?” 

 

Jonny purses his lips and nods. “Back when we were thirteen. I was still trying to convince myself that I was straight. But. Then, uh, I guess I spent too much time thinking about kissing you for that to be true.” 

 

Patrick’s smiling softly now. “I guess I spent some time thinking about you, too. I told myself I was only interested in your hockey.”  

 

“Still only interested in my hockey?” Jonny teases back. 

 

“You know, if we’re like,  _ sharing secrets,  _ or something..” he pauses, tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip. “Chicago was on my list of possible teams to be traded too.” He ducks his head, his smile turning into something a little softer. It makes Jonny still. 

 

He raises an eyebrow, willing Patrick to continue. 

 

“Actually, I guess it  _ was  _ the list.” He’s fiddling with the strings of his hoodie now, refusing to meet Jonny’s gaze. “I knew that they were looking to the future - building a stronger core. No one said it directly, but I knew what it meant. I never  _ asked _ to be traded, okay? It was happening - but. I told them if I had to go somewhere... I wanted it to be Chicago.” 

 

Patrick's look at him with apprehension, his brows knit together, front tooth sinking into his lower lip. 

 

Jonny blinks at him for a minute, unsure of what to say as the words wash over him. Patrick wanted to come to Chicago. 

 

“Because you thought it would be your best chance at a cup?” Jonny asks, hesitant. They _ did _ win their third Stanley Cup in six years just two seasons ago. It makes sense. Jonny is sure a lot of guys would pick to be traded here. Especially those who hadn’t gotten the taste of a real successful playoff run during their career. 

 

Patrick lulls his head to the side, studying Jonny curiously. “Is that a real question?” 

 

Jonny gives a half shrug. Sort of. Maybe not. He thinks he knows the answer but they've never been that good at communicating with one another. 

 

Patrick sighs. Not in a frustrated way. In fact, there's the tiniest trace of a smile on his lips and it almost looks  _ fond _ or something. Jonny feels his cheeks heat with a blush. 

 

“Obviously you guys had one of the strongest teams in the league, yeah, which certainly didn't hurt my decision. But no, I picked the Hawks because the thought of moving away from my family was terrifying. Last time I'd done that, I was seventeen. Anywhere else, I would have been completely alone. But you're here, Jonny. And. Aside from my family, you're the person I feel most comfortable with. It... it didn't  _ mean  _ anything huge, you know? Just that I feel most myself when I'm with you.” 

 

Jonny listens to Patrick, nodding softly along to his words. It makes sense. It didn't mean Patrick wanted to be a with him, which was good. Kept things less complicated. 

 

“And then I was kind of a dick to you,” Jonny mutters, grimacing through what he hopes looks like an apologetic smile. 

 

Patrick laughs softly, this little chime of a thing that Jonny loves. He wants to lean over and kiss him but this moment feels too important for that. 

 

“Kind of?” Patrick snorts, kicking him in the ankle. 

 

Jonny smirks in return. “Okay, I was a total dick about it.” 

 

“I was mostly embarrassed, that's why I got so mad. I didn't want to leave Buffalo, but I figured if I had too. Chicago wouldn't be so bad. But then your... reaction made me rethink that. Seemed like you didn't want me here.” 

 

“I can promise you, that wasn't true. I was scared, honestly. I didn't know how you being here would change... us. So yeah I was scared and then I acted like an asshole and-” 

 

“And yet here we are anyway,” Patrick finishes for him. Even though it wasn't what Jonny was going to say. Patrick leans over and kisses him though, soft and sweet, and Jonny decides that what Patrick said was better anyway and keeps on kissing him. 

 

***

 

“Hey, Jonny?” Patrick calls out later that morning, while Jonny is in the kitchen making them breakfast. “Sharpy invited us to his place for dinner.” 

 

Jonny whips his head around, staring at Patrick with an incredulous look. “ _ Eight years.  _ Eight years I've been playing with this guy. You’ve been here a couple months and suddenly he's asking  _ you _ for both of us?” 

 

Patrick saunters towards him with a smug expression, smacking a kiss on his cheek. “Sorry, he just likes me more. Must be a Patrick thing.” 

 

“Must be an asshole thing,” Jonny chirps back. “Tell him we’ll be there.” 

 

*** 

 

With everything that had happened the night before, Jonny had somehow forgotten his little dramatic exit- until he walks through the Sharp’s front door to find Sharpy smirking at him mercilessly and saying, in a deep robotic voice. “Stay the fuck away from Patrick.” 

 

The color drains from his face as the memory washes over him like a flood - shoving Sharpy hard. He had been so jealous, he wasn’t thinking straight. And he was drunk, too. 

 

Patrick looks a mix between confused and delighted. But before Sharpy can explain, or mock him any further, Abby comes out, snacking Sharpy on the shoulder with one hand, carrying Sadie in the other. “Leave him alone, Patrick,” she chastises. 

 

Sharpy listens to Abby, as he always does, but still fires a wink in Jonny’s direction. 

 

Patrick is laughing, probably clueing into the events of the night before. Jonny’s face feels red and hot. 

 

The food is ready, Abby tells them to serve themselves and then they all sit down to eat. It’s a nice meal - it always is, at the Sharps. As much as he pisses Jonny off - and embarrasses him like no one else - Sharpy is Jonny’s best friend, and he loves Abby dearly. It’s nice, being surrounded by his favorite people. 

 

Afterwards, they head outside. Maddie, who seemed to take to Patrick the moment he entered the room, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the backyard as soon as they stepped outside. Abby began to tell Patrick that he didn’t have too, but Patrick smiled charmingly at Maddie and said he’d be happy too. 

 

“Seriously, man, jokes aside - what happened last night?” Sharpy asks a few moments later, handing Jonny a beer as he sits down on the lawn chair next to him. 

 

With a heavy sigh, Jonny tells him: “Patrick decided to make me jealous, by saying your were hot.” 

 

Sharpy looks thoughtful for a second before shrugging. “Meh, he's not my type. Not a huge fan of the dimples.” 

 

“Or the dick,” Jonny points out, instead of defending Patrick’s dimples like he wants too. 

 

Sharpy laughs. “True,” he agrees, holding up his bottle of beer for a cheers. 

 

“Higher!” Maddie shrieks from the swing set. Jonny turns to look, watching as Patrick pushes her. 

 

“I’m going to push you all the way to outer space,” he tells her and she giggles. 

 

Jonny swallows hard. 

 

“When are you going to tell him?” Sharpy asks. 

 

“What?” Jonny asks, still watching Patrick and Maddie with a lump in his throat. It was a little surprising, how good with kids Patrick is. 

 

“You’re in love with him, Jonny,” Sharpy says simply, as if he were commenting on the weather or something. 

 

Jonny stiffens. “I’m...not,” he disagrees, shaking his head back and forth. He’s  _ not _ . He would know if he were in love with Patrick, wouldn’t he? He scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. Of course he would fucking know if he were in love with someone. That’s not what this is. Maybe years ago, for the briefest moment, he thought it could have been more. But not now. 

 

“I always thought it was weird, you know?” Sharpy keeps talking, like Jonny never even said anything. “Your whole hooking up thing - saving yourself for a guy you saw like, two times a year. But now I get it. When I see the way you look at him, Jon, I really fucking get it. What I don’t get is why it never developed into something more. Because Kaner looks at you the same way. You’re both so clearly in love with each other - you’ve been waiting for each other for  _ eight years _ and now he’s right here and you’re not even doing anything about it.”

 

Jonny wants to protest, to say of course Sharpy doesn’t get it. But what is there to say at this point? Jonny doesn’t even really get it himself. 

 

“Stop punishing yourself, man. Whatever stupid reason you’re coming up with, whatever reason you have for why it won’t work, just... Stop, yeah? You deserve to be happy.”

 

“I don’t-” Jonny stops and sighs heavily, eyes focused securely on the wall. “I don’t know what to say.” 

 

“You don’t have to say anything, not to me anyway. Kaner’s the one you need to talk to.” 

 

It’d be nice if it were that easy - if Jonny could just run to Patrick and say a couple of the right words, and instantly things would just fall into place. But it’s been  _ eight years _ and Jonny’s got to think that if something more were going to happen, it would have by now. He’s always known what his place in this was - someone for Patrick to be with, for now. Until he eventually found the love of his life. Maybe it wouldn’t be until after he retired, or whatever, but one day Patrick was going to find someone and Jonny was going to have to let him go. It’s always the way things have been. 

 

He looks back at Patrick, tickling Maddie while she shrieks happily. One day, he was going to be an amazing dad. He was going to have a family he loved dearly, and Jonny wanted that for him. Even if it would quite possibly break his fucking heart, he always wanted to best for Patrick. 

 

“Yeah, alright,” Jonny mumbles because he knows agreeing is the only way to make Sharpy let it go. 

 

Sharpy looks at him with one raised eyebrow, as if he’s surprised that Jonny had given in so easily. 

 

Patrick’s mostly quiet in the car on the way back to Jonny’s place. Jonny hadn’t even  _ asked _ if he were coming back, just sort of assumed and Patrick didn’t object when Jonny took the turn that brings them towards his place, away from Patrick’s. They’ve been pretty much living with each other for weeks, now. 

 

_ Nothing about this is casual _ , he hears Sharpy’s voice in his head, a vicious reminder about just how much he’s starting to want from this. All the things he won’t ever get to have. 

 

“You were really good with Maddy,” he says out of nowhere. 

 

Patrick turns to look at him, expression unreadable. “She’s a good kid. Pretty little thing too - got good genes.” 

 

Jonny rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores the comment. “You want kids?” He asks. 

 

Patrick ducks his head, a bashful little smile playing over his lips. “Like, not right now. But I think, yeah, maybe eventually.” He peeks up at Jonny, tooth sinking into his lip like he’s trying to gauge Jonny’s reaction and Jonny doesn’t know what to think about  _ that _ . 

 

He’s always thought about a future where Patrick eventually finds someone else. Someone to share his life with, completely, instead of in two day snapshots, every couple months. 

 

It’s hard to try to put himself in that role - to picture himself as that person for Patrick. It makes him feel a bit uneasy and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. He doesn’t know anything, it seems. 

 

“What about you?” Patrick asks when Jonny doesn’t respond. 

 

“Yeah,” he replies hollowly, feeling like he’s a million miles away. “Maybe eventually.” 

 

Patrick smiles at him, all small and sweet and Jonny doesn’t know. He just  _ doesn’t know _ . 

 

*** 

 

He tries not to think about the conversation with Sharpy after that. He does a pretty good job of it, too - throwing himself into hockey and focusing on winning. 

 

It’s all going according to plan - until they play Washington and TJ invites Jonny out to drinks afterwards. 

 

A bunch of the guys end up going, and some of the Washington players too. It’s nice - the night is going great until TJ pulls Jonny off to the side with a determined looking face. 

 

“Jonny,” he says, very seriously. Jonny’s not used to this from TJ. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I always tried to make that clear... even in college.” 

 

Jonny tenses at the mention of college, but manages to ask “what the fuck are you talking about?”

 

Tj gives him a disappointed look then looks pointedly over at Patrick. “C’mon, Jonny,” he says gently. 

 

Jonny’s head is starting to spin a little, his vision going blurry with panic. He shakes his head roughly, unable to get any words out. 

 

“Christ, do you think I'm going to  _ care?”  _ TJ demands. “I want you to be happy, man,” he keeps going when Jonny still doesn't say anything. “I'm actually relieved to see you found someone. Thought you were gonna spend the rest of your career denying yourself happiness.” 

 

Jonny runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “How... what?” He manages to grit out, feeling like he's going to be sick. It had been hard, in college, trying to keep his sexuality from TJ. At first, he was always trying to set Jonny up with different girls. Eventually he just got the point, seemed to buy the lie that Jonny was just really  _ focused on hockey right now.  _

 

Tj rolls his eyes. “You think I can't tell when someone is into me?” His smile is leering, eyebrows wiggling hideously.

 

“I... you  _ knew _ ?” Jonny spews out. He's actually going to be sick now. Looking back, his feelings for TJ were completely ridiculous. But Jonny had admittedly spent a  _ lot _ of time thinking pushing TJ up against a wall and kissing his stupid smirk right off his face. 

 

Tj laughs. “Of course I knew.” Jonny starts trying to apology profusely but TJ talks over him. “I was flattered, dude. Didn't change anything. You were still my best bud. Didn't mind you having a crush on me.”

 

“A  _ crush _ ,” Jonny squeaks, wanting to sink into a hole in the ground and never come out. How did this become his night - sitting in a bar discussing his former  _ crush _ on TJ Oshie. What the  _ fuck _ .

 

“Nothing compared to how you look at Kane though, man, thats,” TJ shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I'm happy for you.”

 

Jonny screws up his lips and looks down at his shoes. “It's not. We’re not like, together.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Jonny glances over at Patrick - he doesn't feel right, talking about this without Patrick’s permission but TJ was one of his best friends. He trusted him - and clearly he’d known about Jonny for years, so he had no reason not too. He couldn’t fuck anything up for Patrick without ultimately doing it for Jonny too. 

 

He lets out a long sigh. “It's not, like, serious. It's just... I don't know how to explain it. We just kind of, hook up. Every now and then.” It’s kind of a cop out - it maybe explained how things were up until a couple months ago. But Jonny doesn’t really have any other way to define it. 

 

Tj raises an eyebrow. “Every now and then?” 

 

Jonny closes his eyes and figures if he's going to tell Tj he might as well give him the whole story. “On and off for the past eight years,” he mumbles out, refusing to meet Tj’s eye. 

 

“Eight  _ years? _ ” Tj scream-whispers. “What the fuck, Jonny! That's a marriage!” 

 

Jonny lets out a frustrated huff. “It's not like that though. We only saw each other a couple times a year until-” 

 

“Until he came to Chicago.” 

 

Jonny sighs. “Yeah.” 

 

“And then?” 

 

“And then we didn't even sleep together for the first month he was here - and now. I don't know. I don't know where we stand.” 

 

“Just tell him you love him, dude,” Tj shrugs like it's quite possibly the simplest thing in the world. Jonny had missed him, so much. Especially the easy way he always managed to act like the biggest problems were easily solved with the smallest effort. Jonny had been a bit high strung in college and definitely needed that from TJ at the time. 

 

“Why is that everyone's fucking solution?” Jonny yells, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “It's not that easy!” 

 

“Everyone? Who else knows?” 

 

Jonny inhales a sharp breath. “Sharpy...” 

 

“Well Sharpy is a smart fucking dude. You should start listening to him.” 

 

“I don’t... I don’t love him, alright? I don’t know...” He let out a long sigh. “I just don’t know, okay?” 

 

Tj looked at him with a small frown, shaking his head. “I think you do.” 

 

Duncs had come over to them shortly after and that was that. Jonny had felt slightly off kilter for the rest of the night though, and on the way home he had kept looking over at Patrick, feeling this unexplainable urge to tell him something but Jonny just didn’t know what. 

 

He was getting really tired of not knowing. 

 

*** 

 

Things stay pretty much the same for a while, after that. Until one day when Schmaltz comes up to him after practice and asks Jonny if he wants to get lunch, with these sincere and hopeful eyes. Jonny still can’t help the way his stomach clenches, but he manages a nod.

 

They’re just starting to eat when Nick finally says it, and Jonny is mostly just relieved. His back had been stiff with tension from the moment they sat down, waiting for it. 

 

“I’m sorry if I like, made you uncomfortable or overstepped or just wrongly assumed,” he starts. “I really didn’t mean to pry into your life - it was none of my business. I guess it was just partly wishful thinking-“ 

 

He stops suddenly, eyes going a little wide. “I mean,” he coughs out. 

 

“Wishful thinking?” Jonny echoes, raising one eyebrow. 

 

“Just. It would have been cool - knowing that one of my favorite players was...” He scrubs a hand over his face, shaking his head a little. “Especially growing up. Would have probably helped a lot.” 

 

Jonny stares at him for what is probably far too long. He didn’t actually say he were gay, or anything, but it’s pretty obvious that Jonny is correctly reading between the lines. 

 

“Yeah,” he says low, struggling a little to get the word out. He can’t help thinking about what it would have been like, for him, to see an NHL star publicly out. There was nothing like You Can Play, when he were a kid, and it would have really helped him with the internal battle he had with accepting himself. 

 

Even now, with You Can Play, there’s still no one for those kids - no one to actually look up too. 

 

“Thanks, um, for telling me.” Jonny flexes each one of his fingers against his thigh. “I’m sorry for how I acted, when you, asked me. I guess I just didn’t realize what place you were coming from.” 

 

Schmaltz smiles at him, all small and sweet. He nods a little, and Jonny isn't sure if he’s imagining the slight shine in his eyes. 

 

For the first time, Jonny wonders what it would be like to be that person for some kid. To be someone a kid could look up to and think  _ he’s like me, and he’s won the Stanley Cup. He’s like me and he’s won an Olympic gold. He’s like me and he’s the captain of an original six franchise. He’s like me and he can play.  _

 

Thinking about being out was always a negative, in Jonny’s mind. All the press, the questions, the shit he would get. He’s never really thought too much about the good he could do. His whole life it’s just been  _ don’t tell anyone, don’t let anyone find out.  _ The thought of ever openly sharing his sexuality is scary. 

 

He wonders if Patrick has ever thought about it. About being out - together? It seems like the sort of thing they’d have to be in a relationship for. 

 

He can’t get it out of his head the entire drive home. He decides he’s going to ask Patrick his opinion on maybe coming out one day - during their careers. Not like, tomorrow or anything. Just someday. And maybe, if Patrick says yes, it will help clear up some other questions he has about them. 

 

“Hey Pat?” He calls when he gets in, tossing his keys into the little bowl by the door. He listens for an answer but gets nothing. Maybe Patrick is sleeping? 

 

“Patrick?” He calls again, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees him - huddled on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, back leaning against the kitchen cupboards.

 

“What-“ Jonny starts, but Patrick interrupts him. 

 

“It’s my grandpa. He’s sick.” 

 

***

 

Patrick books his flight back to Buffalo - pressed against Jonny’s side, crying silently into his shoulder. He doesn’t book a return flight, not sure when he’s going to come back. 

 

He chooses the soonest flight, set to leave Chicago at 4am. 

 

They don’t bother going to bed, just stay wrapped around each other on the couch. Jonny keeps his grip on Patrick right, hoping it’s reassuring. Eventually, Patrick falls asleep while Jonny combs his fingers through his hair. 

 

Around 2:30, Jonny gently nudges Patrick awake. For a few moments, all he gets in return is a few blinks then Patrick smiling dreamily up at him. It makes Jonny’s heart clench, and it’s even worse when Patrick’s face contorts into pain, the moment he remembers what’s happening clear on his face. 

 

They don’t say much as they filter around the apartment, getting everything ready. Patrick isn’t talking, and Jonny just wants to be there for him, to support him in whichever way he needs. If he doesn’t feel like talking, he’s going to accept that. 

 

He holds his hand the entire drive. 

 

As they’re pulling into a parking spot, Patrick speaks, so quietly and broken that Jonny barely hears him. “What if he...” he chokes back a sob over the word, unable to say it. “And I didn’t get to spend his last couple months with him because I left. I should have stayed with him. I should have....  _ fuck.”  _

 

“Shh,” Jonny coos gently, reaching over to pull Patrick to him. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t choose to leave, Pat. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to go home and see him and it’s all going to be okay.” 

 

It’s nearly time for Patrick to leave when he says suddenly “I didn’t tell anyone. From the hawks. I’m going to miss the game-“

 

“Hey, you let me worry about that. You go be with your family.” 

 

Patrick looks at him, eyes soft and filled with so much emotion. There’s a couple beats where they just sit there, staring at each other. Jonny feels it all hit him like a train, all these emotions and feelings that he’s been denying for so long. How important Patrick is to him, how much he cares about him. Whether everything between them is casual or not, Patrick has become one of the most important people in Jonny’s life and he would do just about anything for him. 

 

“Thank you,” Patrick finally whispers, then leans in to kiss Jonny so softly he can barely feel it. 

 

“Text me when you land,” Jonny whispers against Patrick’s neck, hugging him tightly. Patrick nods into his chest. He pulls back a moment later, eyes shining with moisture. 

 

“Thanks, Jonny,” he says again before unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door to get out. Jonny watches him, with a lump in his throat, as he goes around the back to get his bags. He keeps watching as Patrick heads down the sidewalk, towards the main entrance. He sits there, the car still running and stares ahead even after Patrick’s retreating back disappears into the entrance. 

 

His heart hurts, for Patrick, for everything he’s going through. And for himself - for all the times he’s sat there, watching Patrick head into an airport and leave him all over again. 

 

*** 

 

Jonny gets home and calls the office, explains the situation. Everyone is mostly understanding - even if they’re a bit frustrated about having to change up the lines with mere hours notice.

 

Patrick texts him a few hours later, a simple  _ landed.  _

 

Jonny texts back, telling him he cleared everything with the Hawks and he had as long as he needed to be with his family. He adds another text, after that says  _ let me know if you need anything _ . 

 

Patrick doesn’t text back, not that he expects him too. Jonny keeps his ringtone on anyway, in case Patrick needs him. 

 

*** 

 

It’s a week later when Jonny finally hears from Patrick. 

 

He comes off the ice, fresh of a win in which he scored a goal and got two assists. When he pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket, he sees a text from Patrick that says  _ good game.  _ A moment later, another one follows.  _ My grandpa says you’re the real deal.  _

 

A cautious sense of relief floods over Jonny.  _ He’s doing okay? _

 

_ Doc says he should make a full recovery.  _

 

_ Fuck, Pat, that’s amazing.  _

 

Jonny waits, phone in his hand for a few minutes, until the media files in and he has no choice but to stuff it back into his jacket. He gets a shower afterwards, without checking for a reply. 

 

He finally looks at his phone again when he’s packing up to leave. 

 

_ Yeah, _ the text reads.  _ Flying back tomorrow.  _

 

Jonny is hit with an overwhelming flood of relief, so powerful it scares him. With the relief comes fear, too. Because he’s had some time to think, this past week, and he’s come to a decision. 

 

It hadn’t been an easy one - but a week without Patrick had been absolutely miserable. Jonny couldn’t help but look around, and see all the places Patrick was missing. He couldn’t help but feel empty and sort of lost without Patrick and... Jonny honestly didn’t ever want to be without him. 

 

Which is why he has to end things. 

 

Because Sharpy was right. Nothing about this was casual, not for Jonny. He had wanted Patrick, and only Patrick for the past eight years. He’d convinced himself he was never interested in anyone else because it wouldn’t be possible - but that was never it. His heart has always belonged to Patrick. 

 

After the past couple months, Jonny had learned what it was like to be with Patrick - to wake up next to him day after day, to have him in his life for real. To be able to kiss him whenever he wanted, to laugh with him, to just genuinely enjoy life with him. 

 

From the beginning, Jonny always knew how this was going to end. And it definitely wasn’t with the two of them riding off into a sunset together for their happily ever after. 

 

He always feared and dreaded the day Patrick would end it - would say they couldn’t keep doing this anymore, they were too old for casual, he had met someone serious. 

 

And he was prepared for the way that would gut him, to lose that part of his life that involved Patrick. But he would have gotten through it. He would have missed their weekends together, curled up in one of their beds enjoying the little time they had. Everything they played Buffalo, he would have been sick with the longing for what they once had. 

 

But his real life would have been safe - he’d return to Chicago, go back to his day to day life that never involved Patrick at all. 

 

Now, that was impossible. Because Patrick had seeped his way into everything Jonny had. He was there, before games, after games, during practice, on the plane. He was there, on off days, in Jonny’s apartment, looking soft and comfortable on Jonny’s couch. He was there Christmas morning, New Year’s Eve - starting a new year together. 

 

Jonny didn’t have a Patrick-less life to return too now. All he had was the overwhelming realization that he wanted all that and more, for as long as he could have it. 

 

But there was no point in putting off the heartbreak. 

 

He needed Patrick  _ so much  _ and that’s why he had to let him go. 

 

*** 

 

_ Can I come over? _

 

Jonny’s front teeth sink into his lower lip as his eyes scan the message over and over again. He hasn’t replied to Patrick’s message about flying in. But now he supposes he has no choice but to answer this one. 

 

And really, there’s no point in putting this off. Jonny already feels sick with the emptiness of not having Patrick. Might as well get it over with. 

 

_ Sure.  _

 

When Patrick arrives, he’s clearly skeptical about something being up. Neither of them make any move to kiss or touch each other at all. Patrick places his bag by the door and just looks at Jonny, eyes squinted and mouth straight. 

 

“How was the flight?” Jonny asks, turning to head back to the kitchen. “Want a beer?” He adds before Patrick can even answer. 

 

“Yeah, thanks. And it was alright. You know.” He shrugs awkwardly, lips pursed. “Thanks,” he says as he takes the beer. 

 

Jonny watches as he takes a low sip, watches the way his throat constricts as he swallows. He wants nothing more than to push him up against the wall and bite along his neck until Patrick is moaning in his arms. He just takes a long sip of his own beer. 

 

“So. You going to tell me what your deal is, or we just going to keep pretending like nothing's wrong?” 

 

Jonny lets his eyes fall shut and inhales deeply. “I just. I can’t...  _ we  _ can’t do this anymore, Pat.” It feels like the words are being pulled out of him even as he tries so hard to keep them in, just a little longer. To keep Patrick his - in whatever context they are - for a little longer. 

 

But the words are out and Patrick is reeling back like Jonny had just slapped him, eyes wide and sad. 

 

“You.... Wait, what? You’re serious?” Patrick gasps out, backing up and laying his beer on the island. “This... you’re not serious?” He asks again, this time softer, almost broken. 

 

“I’m sorry - I just can’t. It’s different now that you’re here.” 

 

“Yeah, it’s fucking different!” Patrick explodes. He takes a deep breath. “Of course it’s different. But like... I thought it was a good different.” He says the last part in a tiny voice, so unsure that it makes Jonny want to cry. 

 

“It  _ was _ a good different-“ Jonny assures him quickly. ”Patrick... it’s been so good.” 

 

“I don’t understand then!” Patrick cries out. “Why are you doing this?” 

 

Why  _ is  _ he doing this? Hurting Patrick... seeing him looked so overcome and small, it’s killing Jonny. For a second he thinks that maybe he would have been better off just waiting and letting Patrick hurt him one day instead, so he never had to see that look on his face. 

 

He barrels on anyway. 

 

“Having you here has been so amazing... but it made me realize that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep things casual - I want more and I know that’s never what this was but. It hurts too much.” 

 

There’s a long moment of silence whîle Patrick just blinks at him. 

 

“You’re doing this because... let me try to wrap my fucking head around this, Jesus-”

 

“Patrick-“ Jonny tries to stop him but Patrick just shakes his head. 

 

“No seriously. Let me just. You want more and you’re ending it because I don’t?” 

 

_ To put it bluntly,  _ Jonny thinks and winces. God this is definitely the worst conversation he’s ever had in his life. Jonny shrugs. 

 

“This is  _ so fucked up _ ,” Patrick breathes out, almost a laugh. 

 

Jonny keeps staring at his feet. He just wants this to be over so he can go curl up in his bed and never come back out. 

 

He sees Patrick’s feet take a step closer. 

 

“Why don’t you try  _ asking me _ what I want Jonny, instead of just telling me? You’ve spend the past what, eight years, just... Assuming you know what I want? You should have  _ asked _ .” 

 

Jonny opens his mouth to respond but then clamps it shut, unsure of what to say. He feels kind of dumb. He finally looks up, not ready to get his hopes up. 

 

“Jesus Jonny.  _ Ask me _ ,” Patrick urges, his eyes steady on Jonny’s. 

 

“What.... what do you want?” 

 

“You, you  _ fucking idiot.  _ You can’t do casual anymore? Well, for me this has  _ never been casual.”  _

 

“I...” Jonny starts dumbly. “What?” 

 

Patrick shakes his head, a mix between furious and exasperated. “Is it really that hard to believe?” He doesn’t give Jonny the chance to respond though, just pulls him forward by the collar and crushes their lips together. 

 

Jonny remains shell shocked for a few moments. This morning he’d woken up knowing today he was going to lose Patrick and now... Well now everything is different. If he’s understanding correctly - he may actually have Patrick now in ways he never thought possible. 

 

That, and the way Patrick’s lips are moving urgently against his, well it’s a lot to take in all at once. 

 

“I’ve always wanted you, okay? I was never looking for someone else. Not when I had already found you.” 

 

Jonny blinks. Patrick is saying all these things - these amazing things that Jonny, without knowing, has been waiting years to hear. And all Jonny has managed was a dumb  _ what _ . He figures it’s about time he says something to show Patrick how much he means to him. 

 

“I love you,” he says, and it feels right on his tongue. Like it’s been sitting there, on the tip, waiting to be said for weeks. When he says it, he knows it’s true, knows he’s felt this way for years even if he never was able to put a label to the feelings. 

 

It’s Patrick’s turn to look completely dumbfounded. “You... you do?” He says, all small and hopeful. 

 

_ Yes,  _ Jonny thinks.  _ So fucking much.  _

 

Jonny nods, hard and quick. 

 

“I love you too,” Patrick says, smile all small and fond. He reaches up to trace his finger along Jonny’s jaw, delicate and smooth. “God, I waited so long to hear you say that.” 

 

And okay, clearly they have a  _ lot _ of things they need to talk about - things they should have been talking about for years. But all Jonny wants right now is to bring Patrick to his bedroom and fuck him while he whispers  _ I love you _ over and over again against his skin. 

 

By the way Patrick is kissing him back, he doesn’t seem to object. 

 

*** 

 

“I can’t believe you were going to break up with me,” Patrick says afterwards while he’s laying with his head on Jonny’s chest, fingers tracing along Jonny’s stomach. 

 

Jonny winces - yeah, okay, looking back it was all pretty fucked up. But how was he supposed to know Patrick was in love with him? 

 

“I didn’t know there was a relationship to break up,” he points out. 

 

Patrick turns his head so his meets Jonny’s eyes, their faces inches apart. “You’re so stupid,” he tells him. But he sounds happy about it. 

 

“You never mentioned wanting more. I had no idea. I thought you were happy with what we had.” 

 

Patrick doesn’t say anything for a minute, just snuggles in closer against Jonny, tucking his head back against his shoulder. Jonny closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling, the moment. Knowing Patrick is his. 

 

“I missed you, all the time.” 

 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jonny asks, reaching up to play with Patrick’s thinning curls. 

 

“You didn’t, either.” 

 

Jonny hums in response. He supposes that’s true. His eyes are just drifting shut, relaxing with all the happiness coursing through his body, when he remembers suddenly: “I asked you once to hangout in the off season.” 

 

Patrick startles against him, like he was starting to drift off too. “When?” 

 

“Sochi.” Jonny remembers how nervous he had been - but even having a few extra days with Patrick made him want more. He’d found the courage to ask him. 

 

“That doesn’t count,” Patrick objects. “Sharpy totally busted into the room and caught us like, ten seconds later. Then you freaked the fuck out about someone knowing and never mentioned it again.” 

 

“Well, how about I get it right this time, then?” Jonny asks, kissing the top of Patrick’s head. 

 

“I’m listening,” Patrick says and Jonny can hear the smile in it. 

 

“Would you like to spend the off season with me? This one, and every one after that?” 

 

Patrick pushes himself up so he’s leaning on Jonny’s chest, staring him right in the eye. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
